


All Along

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, College, F/M, Fluff, High School, Human AU, Smut, Sub!Dean, anti-lisa, lisa-hate, tattooed!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:18:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 29,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: You’re just about to graduate, getting away from high school and seeing the world. Most importantly, getting away from Dean Winchester, the sophomore who irritated you like no other… AU All human





	1. Chapter 1

“Benny!” you screeched, kicking at the bathroom door milliseconds after your little brother had darted in there. “You don’t even have any hair, you dick!”

“Y/N!”

You turned, face going red as your mother scolded you. Her expression was stern and Benny opened the bathroom door again, skipping out with a smile and a sweet greeting to his mom. A scowl crossed your face and you slipped into the bathroom, slamming the door hard.

Benny was a pain. He’d always been a pain, since the second he’d been born. At two years and two months younger, he was the baby and got away with murder, whereas you were always getting caught for things you hadn’t even done. Being the eldest was a curse and it didn’t stop at home.

He went to the same high school now. A sophomore to your senior, Benny had a small group of friends, mostly boys, mostly nerds. They’d hang around on the bleachers and talk about cars, Xbox and comic books, which seemed incredibly dull to you. The worst part was carpooling in the morning. Being the eldest, you had to drive and your mom had volunteered you to run Benny and his friends to school, seeing as they lived on the same street.

No amount of protesting had gotten you out of the task. Your only saving grace from the company of Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak and your brother, was that your best friend Meg, lived next door and agreed to shoulder the burden with you. Every morning, you piled into the beat up old cherry-colored Chevrolet and drove the three miles to school.

From there, you avoided the younger students as much as you can. Your final year of high school meant studying and working hard to get the grades you wanted for college. You were deferring for a year, travelling before you went to college but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to put the work in to attend the University of Kansas. Meg had plans to join you on your adventures, seeing as she was looking to study the same courses as you and didn’t want to start college without her best friend.

“I have bad news,” Meg announced, climbing into the car before anyone else that morning and you looked over at her with a frown. “I can’t ride back with you tonight. Mr Johnson wants me to stay late for extra credit and I really need it with the state of my chem grade.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “That sucks. Want me to stay with you?”

Meg shook her head. “Nah, it’s cool. I know the kids will wanna be home to play their stupid video games.”

“I forgot,” you muttered, spying your brother leaving the house, his two friends running towards him. “Stupid Halo night.” Castiel reached the car before the other two boys, sliding in across the backseat and smiling at you in the mirror.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted and you smiled back. Castiel was at least polite, whereas –

“And there’s a beautiful sight in the morning,” Dean Winchester drawled, sliding right into the middle of the seat and promptly leaning forward toward you. “No kiss today, princess?”

“Shut up,” you growled, as Benny shut the door, slipping his seatbelt on, “or you can walk.”

Dean chuckled, patting the back of your seat. “Feisty. I like it.”

Meg rolled her eyes and you started the engine, turning up the music as you pulled away from the curb. The boys chattered among themselves, while you and Meg remained silent, listening to the radio and tapping along to the songs. It was only a ten minute drive to school but it was ten minutes of feeling Dean’s eyes burning a hole in the back of your head. For a fifteen-year-old, he somehow thought he was God’s gift to women and you hated the way he looked at you.

Pulling up to the school, you didn’t even acknowledge the three young men as they climbed out of the car, sprinting towards the front of the building. Meg watched them, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “He’s not gonna give up.”

You shuddered, scowling at the windscreen as you turned off the engine and put the car in park. “He needs to. Snot-nosed kid.” A disgusted sound passed your lips and Meg laughed. “I don’t know why he fixates on me.”

“He fixates on anything with breasts,” Meg commented dryly. “And he’s going to. He’s a teenage boy. They can’t even control their boners at that age.”

“Gross,” you spat. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Castiel is a sweet kid, though,” she murmured and you gave her a funny look, dragging your keys out of the ignition. “What?”

“Jailbait,” you reminded her and Meg laughed loudly. “C’mon, Meg. They’re kids. And we get to experience college guys soon.”

“No,” she informed you, “we get to experience hot foreign guys in Europe.”

You laughed, opening the car door to get out. “Even better!”

*****

He made you jump when he appeared behind you at your locker, causing your textbooks to clatter to the floor noisily. You glared as Dean smirked, not moving an inch to help you pick the books up. “Hey,” he greeted, leaning casually against the metal lockers. “How’s your day?”

“Something I can help you with?” you asked through gritted teeth, looking up at him from the floor. Dean’s smile only widened as you got up, eye level with him. He’d grown a lot in the past year, filling out as he went through his teens. You could see the appeal for a younger girl but he was far too immature for you to want to deal with.

“No. I was just wondering how you were.”

“You saw me this morning,” you replied, grunting under your breath and dropping your books back into your locker. “And I’m fine. Go away.”

He didn’t take the hint, reaching out to snag a family photo from your last vacation with your parents. “I like this photo. You look good in a two-piece.” You snatched the photo back, slamming your locker door as Dean kept grinning. “Hey, so it’s my sixteenth birthday in a couple months.”

“Good for you,” you spat, turning away from him, intent on heading towards your next class. “Maybe you’ll grow up.”

Dean laughed, following you. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t be like that –“

“God, Dean, would you leave me alone?” you snapped, whirling around to glare at him. “I’m a senior. You’re a sophomore. My bratty kid brother’s bratty kid friend!” His face was stoic, the grin gone and green eyes sparkling as your outburst drew attention. You were about to continue, tell him all the ways he was too young, too immature, too everything – when his phone rang in his pocket.

His attention went from you to the sound, fishing the phone out of his pocket. He answered and you rolled your eyes, tempted to just walk away from the tongue lashing you were giving him. Then his face went pale and his expression became a mask of worry and you forgot exactly why you were dressing him down. He muttered an “okay” into the phone and turned those ridiculously green eyes on you. “Er, are you going back to class?”

“I’ve got a study period,” you said, tipping your head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“Sammy,” he replied. Sammy was his younger brother, still in middle school on the other side of town. “There’s been an accident. Could you drive me over to the middle school?”

You nodded, hoisting your bag over your shoulder. “Sure,” you whispered, touching his shoulder, knowing that his little brother was his entire world. The pride with which he spoke of him, on the rare occasion he wasn’t trying to flirt, it was obvious to see. But they’d lost their mom early in their lives and John Winchester was always working, leaving Dean to raise his brother alone. “Where’s your dad?”

“They couldn’t reach him,” Dean mumbled. “He’s probably under a car with the music too loud to hear anything.” You sighed, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I’m sure Sam’s fine,” he added, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

“He’s a Winchester,” you reassured him, “and from what I’ve seen, you’re all damn stubborn.”

*****

The knock on your door made you look up to see your mom hanging in the doorway. “Everything okay?” she asked and you nodded, setting your schoolwork aside. “John Winchester just called.”

“Oh?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow.

“Wanted me to thank you for driving Dean over to collect his brother and getting them up to urgent care,” she said, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “You didn’t say anything.”

“I’m surprised he noticed,” you commented, leaning back on your bed. “Dean was distraught. But Sam’s okay. It’s just a broken finger.” Your mom nodded, patting your leg.

“Still, he wanted me to say thank you. He was dealing with a customer when the phone rang and couldn’t pick it up.” You snorted at the excuse but didn’t say anything and your mom sighed. “He’s glad Dean has a friend he can count on.”

“Benny is Dean’s friend,” you informed her, standing up and walking over to your dresser. “Dean is an irritating little…” Swearing in front of your mother probably wasn’t a good idea, so you stopped the word “shit” from slipping out. “Pain in the ass.” A fond smile crossed her face and you scowled at her in the mirror. “What?”

She was chuckled now, shaking her head. “I used to say the same thing about your dad.”

“Gross, Mom,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Dean will forever be a little kid who thinks he’s amazing when he is not. I’ve got more important things to worry about than his silly little crush.

Your mom got to her feet, walking over to place her hands on your shoulders, smiling fondly. “If you say so, dear.”

“I do say so,” you reaffirmed. “I’m going travelling in less than a year. Me and Meg are gonna see the world. What in the hell would a kid like  Dean Winchester and Lawrence have to offer me over that?”


	2. Chapter 2

Benny barged into your room without asking, like he always did, and you scowled, throwing your pen at him. He dodged it, grinning wildly. “Need a favor,” he said, dropping onto your bed hard enough to bounce your textbook off onto the floor.

“You’re going about it the wrong way,” you snarled, leaning over to get your book from where it had landed. “What do you want?”

“Dean’s birthday,” he started and you groaned, flopping back onto your pillows. “We’re gonna take him to that laser tag place that just opened over on Third. But mom says we can’t go unless you go with us because it’s gonna be late and she doesn’t want us walking home in the dark.” His eyes were wide and pleading as you snorted in disgust. “C’mon, sis. It’ll be fun. You could bring Meg?”

Sighing, you sat up, reaching for your cell. “I’ll call her. But that’s not a promise. If Meg doesn’t wanna go, you gotta arrange something else.”

“Thanks, sis,” Benny grinned, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek and you slapped him away, ignoring his laughter. He jogged out of the room and you text Meg, hoping she’d say she was busy and that it would let you off the hook.

Unfortunately, Meg was more than up for the trip and on the 24th, you were waiting outside his house with her and your brother in the car. Castiel was meeting you there – his father was barely around and left him in the care of his older brothers Michael and Gabriel, who didn’t seem to care what he did. How he’d turned out such a well-mannered young man was unexplainable.

Dean and Sam piled out from their house, the elder of the two locking the front door and you assumed John Winchester was once again not home. The classic black Impala that Dean bragged about was not in the driveway but you didn’t mention it when he slipped into the backseat, letting Sam sit in the middle.

“Hi, Y/N!” Sam chirped happily, his hair falling in his eyes.

“Hi, Sammy,” you replied, smiling at him, before your eyes went to Dean. He offered you a slight grin and you noticed the darkness around his cheek that looked like the beginnings of a bruise. “Happy birthday, Dean,” you said, wanting to ask what had happened but he only grunted a thanks and stared out of the window.

“How about dinner?” Meg asked, looking back at the boys. “My treat for Deano’s sweet sixteen.”

Sam and Benny were both vocal about it, suggesting Dean’s favorite diner, Harvelle’s but the birthday boy himself seemed a little less enthusiastic. Nevertheless, you pulled the car away from the sidewalk, heading down the street into town. Sam was already planning what he was going to have for dessert, making Meg smile at his happiness and even Dean managed a little smile for his brother’s sake.

The diner wasn’t busy, surprisingly, and the Harvelle’s, Ellen and Jo, were very happy to see Dean, showering him with treats. He smiled through it all and you watched him closely, concerned that he wasn’t his usual flirty self, especially with Jo. The younger girl had a crush on the boy, her prepubescent heart completely his.

You hoped she’d grow out of it before he broke it.

By the time burgers had been consumed, Dean seemed to have perked up a bit. When you reached the laser tag, meeting up with Cas, the guy on the desk insisted that you needed to be in teams. “There’s six of us,” you pointed out. “Either three teams of two or two of three.” Sam glanced at Dean, pouting and you knew he’d instantly be on Dean’s team.

Pairing off into three teams, you went with Meg, leaving Cas and Benny together, and the Winchesters in their own team. Naturally, you and Meg lost the first two rounds, before triumphantly scoring the winning shot on the last. Ten PM came too fast even for your liking and you had to begrudgingly admit you’d had a good time.

Sam was almost asleep in the backseat when you got back to the Winchester residence. Oddly, Meg had decided to walk home with Castiel and Benny was close to dozing off in your car. The Impala still wasn’t in the driveway and you frowned, getting out of the car when Dean did, his little brother tucked into his side. “Your dad still at work?” you asked quietly and Dean nodded, avoiding your eyes.

“C’mon, Sammy,” he murmured, tapping the boy on the shoulder. “Get yourself to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sam yawned, waving at you. “G’night, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sam. I hope you had fun,” you replied, smiling widely at him.

“Yeah, it was awesome,” he grinned, stretching and yawning again before trudging off towards the house. Dean lingered for a moment longer, shuffling awkwardly on his feet.

“Thanks, Y/N. It was probably the best birthday I ever had,” he admitted quietly and you smiled. “Look, I know you don’t like me but… I really appreciate you helping us out, doing all this and… y’know…” He trailed off and you felt an overwhelming sense of sympathy for him. You had both your parents and while John was alive and kicking, it didn’t seem like he was there for his boys at all. “Just thanks.”

In hindsight, it was probably a stupid idea but you did it anyway, leaning in to brush a soft kiss against his lips, leaving him wide-eyed and surprised. “Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, backing away towards the car. He nodded, not saying anything, just staring at you. Benny didn’t even notice anything had happened, his head tipped back where he’d finally fallen asleep.

Driving away, you wondered if he’d tell everyone what had happened. How the senior girl had kissed the sophomore kid. Would he brag about it? Infuriate you even more.

Somehow, you didn’t care. At that moment, it had felt right and you hoped it had given him something, anything, to make his life a little more bearable.

*****

“I can’t believe you’re graduating today.”

Your mom was a mess. Well, she had been all week, leading up to your final days of high school. Her panic at your upcoming departure, despite not being for another three weeks, was visible and audible to anyone who dared approach her. Your dad didn’t seem bothered in slightest – his only concern was you having enough money for your trip.

“Mom, calm down,” you muttered, smoothing down your skirt. You’d dressed sensibly for your graduation ceremony, not that it would matter with the hideous maroon gowns the school had picked this year. The cap did nothing to flatter your style but at least you only had to wear it for an hour at the most. “It’s just graduating. I’m not dying.”

“But you’re so grown up,” she wailed, quickly enveloping you in a hug before you could escape. You squealed and your father walked into the kitchen, shaking his head as you fixed pleading eyes on him, begging for help without words.

There was none from him.

“Mom,” you whined, dragging out the vowels more than necessary and she released you but only long enough to cup your face and smile tearily at you. “Please, stop –“

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered, pinching your cheeks and you scowled. “All grown up and off to travel the world.”

You pulled away, finally escaping. “I’m going to be late,” you excused, despite there being no classes that morning. Mostly, you want to join the rest of your senior year at Harvelle’s for the yearly farewell dinner. Which included a lot of ice cream. “I’ll see you at graduation!” you called, grabbing your hat and purse, running out of the door before your mother could collar you with another hug.

Meg was waiting outside the diner for you, looking less than pleased and you soon saw the reason why. Her dark-haired little sister Ruby was by her side, the eight-year-old looking sullen as all hell as she sat on the wall, arms folded across her chest. “Sorry,” Meg grumbled as you ran from your car. “Mom and Dad were working so I had to bring her. She doesn’t want to be here.”

“It’s okay,” you assured her, smiling at Ruby, who was a far better sibling that Benny ever was. “C’mon, kiddo, how about we get you the house special sundae?”

The whole of the senior year was packed into the diner and you quickly found a table with a few other friends, settling Ruby down happily with an ice cream. It was a few hours left until the ceremony and everyone was buzzing at the thought of what the next stage of their education or life would bring.

“So you guys are flying out in a couple weeks?” Alfie asked, shovelling a mouthful of whipped cream and sprinkles into his mouth. Meg nodded, sitting up straight, the excitement for your upcoming trip easily readable on her face.

“We’re flying direct to London,” she said, touching your arm excitedly and you smiled widely. “Gonna spend a few days exploring and then we’re getting on the Eurostar to Paris!”

Ruby piped up, ice cream smeared around her lips. “Are you going to Disneyland?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, not Disneyland. But we’re gonna bring you back some awesome souvenirs.” Ruby’s eyes lit up. “After all, England is the land of Harry Potter.” The little girl smiled, chocolate stained teeth making you chuckle and Meg rolled her eyes. You’d always wished for a little sister rather than the pain-in-the-ass brother you had and Ruby was a sweet little thing. According to your best friend, she was a demon in disguise but you never saw it in her.

“Wish I was going,” Alfie grumbled. “My parents wouldn’t let me do anything that cool.”

With a shrug, you popped a piece of candy into your mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. “My parents wanted me to go. I’m not sure if they thought it would be beneficial or they just wanted to get rid of me.” Meg tutted, shaking her head. “What?”

“I don’t think your parents want to get rid of you,” she scolded, “seeing as your mom was in floods of tears earlier, crying about her “baby” leaving home.” You grinned at Meg’s dramatic interpretation of your mother’s reaction. “Way she was acting, you’d think you’d died.”

“She’s just passionate,” you reminded her, sitting back in your seat. The bell above the door jingled, catching everyone’s attention and you groaned when Dean Winchester waltzed in, smirking like he was cock of the walk. Most of the seniors ignored him but your eyes locked onto his and he grinned at you, heading your way. You quickly looked away and groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Shit,” you grunted and Meg chuckled.

“Hey, look. It’s your stalker,” she giggled, nudging you with her elbow.

“Hey, girls,” Dean greeted, sliding into the booth adjacent to yours.

“Hi, Dean!” Ruby chimed, waving at him. Alfie gave the younger boy a disgusted look, turning back to his conversation with the other senior boys. Dean didn’t notice that his presence was unwelcomed by the older students, focusing his attention on you. “Is Sammy with you?”

Meg shushed her, giving Dean an apologetic look. “She’s still got a crush on him.”

“Awww,” Dean crooned, giving Ruby a smile. “He’s at school, kiddo. But I’ll tell him you said hi.” The little girl beamed, returning to her ice cream. “So, graduation today, huh? Benny’s been bitchin’ about havin’ to go with your folks.” You shrugged, giving him a cold look.

“That’s not my problem,” you sniffed. “Why are you here anyway? You’re not a senior.”

Dean shrugged. “Picking up lunch for my Dad and Bobby at the shop. I’m workin’ there now, part-time until I can drop out.”

“Drop out?” Meg questioned and you frowned when Dean nodded. “You’re not gonna graduate?”

“Sweetheart, I am not the brains of the operation,” he laughed, tapping his temple with one finger. “That’s Sammy. I’m better with my hands.” He spoke with a leer directed at you and you shuddered, looking away but that only increased his mirth. “So easy to make you blush, darlin’.” Leaning over, he snatched a fry from the plate in front of you, chewing on it with a satisfied look on his face.

“You realize this is a seniors only party, right?” a deep voice said from behind him and Dean turned, frowning up at the larger boy. You groaned in irritation – of course it would be Zachariah. The senior was the oldest in the class, mainly because he’d been held back a year, and he was known as a bully. His thinning hair made him a target for jokes and he seemed to really hate the Winchesters.

“Zach,” Meg said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “darling.” She gestured to her little sister. “Are you going to evict the nine-year-old from the public premises too?”

Zachariah snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s here with you. This one is a gatecrasher.”

“It’s a diner, dickwad,” Dean snarled. “Entry to all.”

“Not today,” the older boy growled back, trying his hardest to intimidate the sophomore. “Get out before I throw you out.” Dean got to his feet, squaring up, not afraid of Zachariah in the slightest. “What, you wanna go some?”

“I’d wipe the floor with you, buddy,” Dean informed him, his fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t scare me.”

A malicious grin crossed Zachariah’s face. “Aww, don’t I? Maybe I should go get your Daddy. Seems he scares you plenty.” Dean’s face darkened and you knew someone had to intervene before it came to a physical fight. Climbing to your feet, you were beaten to it by Ellen, who approached both boys with a stern expression.

“I don’t have trouble in my diner,” she stated, eyeing Zachariah. “This isn’t an exclusive venue, Zach and unless you want me to call your mom –“ The senior’s face paled and he shook his head, prompting Ellen to smile sweetly. “That’s what I thought. You wanna take a seat?” Zachariah nodded, retreating and Dean smiled smugly, the expression wiped off when Ellen turned to him. “No more fighting,” she hissed. “I don’t wanna have to call your father again.”

She turned away and Dean slid back into his seat, scowling at the table top. You frowned, leaning over to him. “Again?” you questioned and he shrugged.

“Was just a brawl,” he mumbled. “They came off worse.” You recalled his birthday in January, the dark bruising coming out on his cheek and Dean glowered, staring at you out of the corner of his eye. “It wasn’t my dad. Zachariah is talking shit.”

“You’d tell me though, right?” you asked, spontaneously and Dean looked at you in surprise. “If anything was wrong?”

For a second, he just stared, before the line between his eyebrows grew more pronounced and a scowl transformed his expression. “And why would you care?” he spat, hurt evident in his eyes. “You don’t even like me, Y/N? So why would I run to you for anything?” Your eyes went wide with shock and both Meg and Ruby looked at him in surprise at his outburst. Dean scoffed and stood up, shaking his head angrily. “You know what? Have a good life.”

He turned, storming out, ignoring the jeers from Zachariah and his friends and you stared at the door, unsure what had just happened. Ruby’s bottom lip wobbled and your attention was drawn to her. “Why did Dean shout?” she asked, tears gathering in her eyes.

“He’s mad at me,” you confessed. “No need to get upset, Ruby-roo.” She managed a watery smile, ice cream still smeared around her mouth. “He didn’t mean to shout.”

“Man, he was pissed,” Meg muttered under her breath, giving you a look and you sighed.

“He’ll get over it. Give it a week and he’ll be flirting with me again.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dean didn’t get over it. For the rest of the week, despite not having classes, you volunteered to drive the boys to school and back. A phone call from John Winchester the next evening had your mom informing you that Dean would be walking to school from now on and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he was that pissed at you.

Benny wouldn’t speak to you either, siding with Dean and the drive to school in the morning was uncomfortable silence between you and your brother. He, however, was a lot easier to cajole back into a better mood and by the time the last day of school was done, he just wouldn’t talk about Dean.

The three weeks went by quickly and before you knew it, you and Meg were waving goodbye to your tearful parents at the airport, preparing to board your first flight to Europe. You were excited, nervous and frightened but it was the adventure of a lifetime. A year away from home, only speaking to your parents on the phone, utterly independent and free.

You were sure it was going to be the best time of your life.

*****

Welcome To Lawrence, Kansas.

It had been eleven months, two weeks, six days and four hours since you’d last seen the sign. You’d missed it, more than you thought, even though you’d seen so much. London, Paris, Barcelona, Rome - so many beautiful cities with so much rich and interesting history and culture.

And it had nothing on the town you called home.

Stretching your arm out the window, you breathed in the air and Meg sighed beside you. “It’s weird being back.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the road. It was barely nine am, a Sunday morning, and the roads were dead. An eleven hour flight and a stop overnight in Kansas City and you were finally within reach of the only bed you’d ever slept well in.

“Seems like a dream. Like we were only here yesterday.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Funny, I feel the opposite. Like it’s been years since we were home.”

“And now we get four whole weeks of summer before college starts and the real fun begins,” Meg cheered. “You know, college guys.”

“Jeez, could you not leave your libido in Europe?” you snapped playfully. “I thought you were in love with Nick?”

Meg waved her hand dismissively, pulling a face. “Like I’m ever gonna see that dude again. He was fun but I don’t do long distance.” She pushed her hair over her shoulders - it had grown a lot during their travels. “Anyway, I hear Castiel’s older brother goes to KU and I am all over that hotness. Novak’s have good genes.” She paused, musing for a second. “Strong thighs. Ugh.”

“You’re awful,” you chided, shaking your head.

“Oh, and you’re an angel, I suppose,” Meg teased, raising an eyebrow and side-eyeing you. “What was his name? Cain?” Your cheeks grew red and you swallowed. “The Italian Stallion I believe you called him that night you were drunk in Barcelona. Telling me all about how he rocked your world, how sophisticated older men are.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, ducking your head and Meg laughed loudly. “I wasn’t bedding a different guy in every city!”

She shrugged. “And? I wanted to experience the local cuisine.” You stuck your tongue out in disgust as your bed friend giggled away to herself, neither of you saying much else when you reached your neighboring houses.

Your mom was already on the doorstep, clasping her hands to her mouth. Even from a distance, you could see the tears in her eyes and you sighed. Of course, she’d act like you’d been kidnapped for a year, even though she’d literally seen your face on Skype about fourteen hours ago.

She ran down the steps as you got out of the car, barely managing to get yourself off the seat before she had you in a hug, dragged onto the sidewalk. “Oh, Y/N! I’ve missed you so much!”

“Mom!” you complained, scowling as Meg laughed a your predicament. “You saw me on Skype last night.”

“It’s not the same,” the older woman lamented. Meg dragged her backpack out of the car, yawning as she hauled it onto her shoulder. “Lovely to see you home, Meg!” your mom called.

“Hi, Mrs Y/L/N,” she greeted and waved as she turned her attention to you. “I’m gonna get some sleep. Missed my bed.”

“Me too,” you agreed. “I’ll call you later.” Meg nodded and turned away, heading for her house. Her mom opened the door and promptly dragged her inside, making Meg squeak in shock. A laugh bubbled up in your throat as you turned back to your mom who was looking at you strangely. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, a little too quickly. “Just…” a smile stretched her lips, “you’ve grown up so much.”

You blushed, turning away to grab your backpack. “Come on, mom. I’ve got so many photos to show you. And presents!”

*****

You really had missed your bed. After putting your laundry in the basket and hanging up your clean clothes, you grabbed a hot shower and threw yourself into bed. Of course, you’d forgotten what it was really like to sleep at home.

Benny.

Benny and the noise.

Through the wall, after only a couple hours of sleep, you could hear the constant noises of gunfire, screaming and roars. Within ten minutes, you were beyond pissed, climbing out of bed in your teeny sleep shorts and baggy shirt to stomp out of your room and towards your brother’s.

You ignored the “DO NOT ENTER” sign on his door and kicked it open, yelling before it had even swung wide. “I swear to God, Benny, I did not fly six thousand miles home in time for your goddamn birthday so that you force me to kill you on the first -”

Benny wasn’t alone. He sat on the floor, jaw wide open with an Xbox controller in his hand, his character suddenly shot in the head on the screen. Beside him, Castiel was scribbling in a book, completely oblivious to the drama and on the other side, Dean friggin’ Winchester.

“You’re back!” Benny squeaked, dropping his controller and scrambling to his feet.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled as your suddenly six foot tall brother loomed over you. “What the fuck has Mom been feeding you?” Benny laughed, wrapping you up in his big arms. “Seriously, dude, you’re supposed to be my little brother.”

“Well, I got into helping Dean at the shop and muscles kinda come with lugging shit about all day,” he shrugged, gesturing to Dean.

You peered around Benny’s ridiculous arms, raising an eyebrow at Dean. He looked different, still boyish, but the defined muscles under his shirt made your throat tighten. He looked back at you dispassionately and you realized he was still holding his grudge.

Castiel looked up, apparently finished with his scribbling. “Hello, Y/N,” he greeted, still polite. But even he’d changed. The blue of his eyes was even more serious and he was wearing an odd beige trenchcoat, like the one Columbo wore in that crap show your Grandma watched. “How was your vacation?”

Dean snorted and you frowned. “It was good, thank you, Cas.” He gave you a smile and you turned your attention back to Benny. “Did you miss me or something?”

“Of course I did. It’s been quiet around here without you,” Benny admitted. “Hey, you wanna play some Gears Of War?”

You shook your head. “Maybe later, dude. I’m really tired and I just kinda wanna sleep, y’know? D’ya mind turning the sound down a bit?”

Benny nodded. “Sure. Sorry, I didn’t know you were back. Mom and Dad weren’t here when I got in this morning.”

“This morning?” you asked, taken aback by the fact that he had been out all night. “Where were you?”

He glanced back at Dean. “Nowhere, just hanging out at Dean’s is all.”

You narrowed your eyes, knowing you had to get more information. “Okay. Just… keep it down, yeah?” Benny nodded, holding his hands behind his back. You glanced at Dean once more but he just kept on glaring at you. “Catch you later guys.”

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Castiel said, back to his scribbling.

Turning away, you closed the door and padded back to your bedroom, laying back down in an effort to get some more sleep. But for some reason, Dean Winchester was bugging you. How could he still be holding a grudge after a year? You’d tried to apologize, even sent him postcards from every city you went to, even though you’d reasoned you didn’t need to do that, you just wanted him to know someone was thinking about him.

Now, you were home and the anger you thought long gone was still there.

Sleep didn’t happen. After an hour, you got up and got dressed, heading downstairs to find your parents in the kitchen, looking over the newspaper. “Oh, honey!” your mom greeted. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A little,” you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot. “What’s that?”

Your dad tapped the article. “Don’t you remember us telling you that Benny joined the football team? He’s one of the stars.” He pushed the paper towards you as you wandered closer. “Look, he’s in the sports section.”

“I remember you saying he was trying out. Is that why he wasn’t here last night?” you asked.

Your mom smiled, nodding. “He was at practice until late and then stayed at Dean’s. John’s been great, giving him a little part time job to keep him occupied.”

“John Winchester?” You blinked at that, staring at the article. Benny wasn’t just the star, he was the damn quarterback. “Wow. Things have changed. Not to mention that apparently my little brother has been sleeping in fertilizer.” A thought came to you and you eyed them suspiciously. “Steroids?”

Both your parents laughed, shaking their heads. “No. Benny’s just really into his sports. He still does video games on occasion but he’s really good at sports science too,” your dad said, just before your mom chimed in.

“They’re expecting him to get a full scholarship!”

You nodded slowly, grimacing at Benny’s awkward smile in his photo. He’d never really liked attention much, which made everything more surprising. And worrying, seeing as you’d known most of the previous quarterbacks in recent memory and they were all jackasses.

“And Dean?” you asked, frowning at your own question.

Your mom’s face fell a little but she recovered well. “Dean dropped out. As soon as he turned seventeen. He’s working at the shop with John. It seems to be helping their relationship a little. Dean’s not really had a good year.”

“You never said anything,” you muttered, shaking your head a little.

“Dean’s a private kid, Y/N. But he’s a good kid. If he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you.” Your dad placed a hand on your shoulder. “Now, your mother said something about presents?”


	4. Chapter 4

Life in Kansas ran at a much slower rate than the places you’d been used to. Everyone wanted to know about your adventures and your mom had, unsurprisingly, planned a welcome home party. Colluding with Meg’s parents, they set up a marquee across the two backyards and invited the entire neighborhood.

You hated every second but plastered a smile on your face for your mom’s sake. Meg saved you from the most awkward social interactions and your grandma was drunk by eight and slurring by nine, telling everyone about how big your grandfather’s penis was.

Eighty-year-old’s had zero filter.

By the time your dad had carted her back off home, cheeks almost glowing with embarrassment, you were about ready for bed. Benny and his friends, which had multiplied since you left, were still enjoying the party and food, as were half the other neighbors.

Except Dean wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Sam and his father were talking with Bobby Singer, the co-owner of their auto shop business, with your dad and Meg leaning in on the conversation. Benny, Dean and Cas weren’t the only ones that had changed. Sam was at least a foot taller, all arms and legs, gangly in his blossoming teenage years.

“Mom?” you asked, catching her attention.

“Yes, honey?” she replied, not looking at you, too busy dealing with the potato salad.

“Where’s Dean?”

That got her attention and she turned, frowning at you. “I was sure he came in with John and Sam,” she said, looking around. “Maybe he went home?”

You nodded, sighing, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m gonna go up to my room for a bit, if that’s okay? Still kinda tired.”

“Okay, honey,” your mom acknowledged, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll probably still be going after you’ve had a nap.” Turning, you slipped out of her grasp, trudging indoors and up the stairs. The sounds of the party filtered through the open windows and you went still when you saw Dean leaning in the doorway of your room.

“Dean?”

His head snapped round and his back went straight as he noticed you standing there. “Y/N… hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“I didn’t go in,” he rushed out, holding up his hands. “I promise.”

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” you said, frowning. “I don’t have anything to hide.” You moved closer, walking past him into your room. “Can I talk to you?” Dean scrubbed a hand at the back of his head and it was then you noticed the strange scrawlings on the inside of his bicep, barely covered by the tight black t-shirt he was wearing. “Hey, is that a tattoo?”

His eyes widened and he looked at the inking, tugging his sleeve down. Standing from the bed, you approached him with a smile.

“Can I see?” you asked and Dean hesitated, giving you a funny look before rolling the sleeve up. It was a shoulder design that curled round underneath his arm, like a wing made out of smoke. “Wow. That’s really cool. But aren’t you a little… young?”

He shrugged, covering it up again. “I’m eighteen in January,” he pointed out, sniffing. “It’s not the only one I got.”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up with your grin. “Can I see?”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, sweetheart. It ain’t that easy to get in my pants.”

The instinctual reaction to grimace at the suggestion was almost there but the expression didn’t quite make it onto your face. “You’re still mad at me, huh?” He went quiet and you sighed. “I get it. I was a bitch. And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have treated you like -”

“A snot-nosed kid?” he sneered, stepping back. “Sorry, Y/N. But you don’t get to go travelling off for a year and leave all your troubles behind and think everything’s gonna be fine when you get back.” He turned away. “Maybe you should stop acting like such an entitled brat and get the fuck over yourself.”

Shock made your jaw drop and you had nothing to say to his retreating back.

Yeah, Dean was still pissed at you.

And you absolutely deserved it.

*****

College was a whole new experience. The few weeks of summer you had between your travelling and the start of the semester was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you a little overwhelmed as you started your first classes. There were freshman parties everywhere and even though you had Meg, it seemed like she was more adept at making friends than you were.

On your third day, you met Charlie. She was bright and bubbly and generally hilarious to be around. She wasn’t from Kansas, she’d opted to move away from home in Chicago to attend KU, studied media and computer programming. Not that she needed it; on the fourth day, she’d already hacked most of the departments at the university.

It became an adventure, what mischief you could get into next and gradually, you became accustomed to life on campus, only visiting home for the weekends when you needed laundry done or couldn’t be bothered to cook for yourself. Your parents were more than welcoming to your new friend and by the end of the first semester, Charlie Bradbury was practically a member of the family.

You didn’t think about Dean, or at least, you tried not to. With him being at work all the time, and Benny usually with him, seeing him wasn’t a problem.

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, you’d completely forgotten about just how much he hated you.

The holiday was a joint affair between your family and Meg’s next door, which you weren’t about to complain about considering Meg’s mom made the best pumpkin pies. Your mom competed with the best cookies, so it generally meant a day of stuffing your faces before collapsing in front of the television to watch the parade.

“How are your classes going?” Meg’s mom asked, raising an eyebrow at you where you were collapsed onto the small couch in their living room with Charlie sprawled across your legs. Meg was on the floor in front of you, leaving the three of you resembling a messy pile of human limbs.

“Good,” you mumbled, too full of pie to really think much about your answer.

The older woman smiled, nodding and turning her attention back to the television. Eventually, everyone filtered away, leaving you, Meg and Charlie watching the reruns on cable, none of you wanting to move. After the third episode of Happy Days, Charlie was snoring and Meg was almost joining her.

“Hey,” greeted a quiet voice and you looked up, seeing Ruby in the doorway, rubbing her eyes. “Can I sit down here? I can’t sleep.”

You nodded, making a little room on the couch for her. Ruby snuggled in beside you, instantly popping her thumb into her mouth, staring at the television with glazed over eyes. A few moments passed and the little girl dragged her thumb from her lips with a pop, pointing at the screen. “Who’s that?”

“The Fonz,” you smiled, “and he is the coolest dude ever.”

“He’s kinda like Dean,” Ruby commented. “Except Dean doesn’t have a funny haircut and he’s got tattoos. My mom says he’s a “bad boy”.” She frowned, puzzled. “But Sam says his brother is the best.”

You sighed, leaning your head back against the couch cushions. “I think Dean likes to seem tough.”

“Sam told me a secret,” Ruby whispered, keeping her voice low and tucking into your side a little more. “You wanna hear it?” With a puzzled look, you turned your head to look at her, nodding slightly and she grinned. “Dean loves you.”

“What?” you murmured in surprise. You’d expected a secret about something completely different, if you were honest.

“Sam said Dean is in love with you. He doesn’t stop talking about you,” Ruby giggled. “Sam told me that Dean has a photo from your graduation in his wallet.”

Your frown only deepened. Dean hated you. He’d made it clear what he thought of you, so why in the hell would Sam think that? “How does Sam know?”

“Oh please,” Meg drawled from her spot on the floor, apparently awake. “Everyone knows. Dean’s the absolute worst at hiding his feelings. He’s been in love with you since sixth grade.” You blinked, sitting up a little straighter. Meg yawned, stretching her arms up. “C’mon, Y/N, you’re not that oblivious, right?”

“Apparently,” you muttered, scowling at the television. “But he told me he hated me. At the welcome home party.”

Meg laughed, getting to her feet. “You’ve met boys before, right?” You grumbled, shrugging as Ruby wiggled in her spot. “Even Ruby knows that boys will be mean if they like you.”

“That’s just stupid,” you argued. “And it equates abuse with love.”

“No one said it didn’t,” Meg returned, shaking her head. “I’m going to bed,” she informed you, stifling another yawn. “Ruby, you need to go to sleep. You’ve got soccer in the morning.” Ruby grunted in irritation, getting her feet and slouching off to bed. “We driving back to the dorms tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you shrugged. “I’ll come grab you when I’m awake.” Charlie stirred, opening her eyes and looking around in confusion. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty,” you grinned and she promptly flipped you off. “You stayin’ on the couch or coming back to my mom’s?” Charlie shrugged, pushing herself up.

“You sure your mom doesn’t mind you having another girl in your room?” she teased.

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed her off the couch so she landed on the floor with a thud, making Meg giggle. “I’m not the gay one,” you pointed out and Charlie smiled that bright smile she always had. “C’mon. I’ve got backache from sitting here too long.”


	5. Chapter 5

There was no way you were getting away with not spending Christmas at home, not when you’d spent the previous year in Rome. Your mom made plans before even asking you and you had no choice but to spend the whole holiday with your family. With a week to go, the house was covered in decorations and you were already sick of the rich food.

“We going out tonight?” Meg asked, distracting you from the popcorn strings you were making with your cousin Maxwell, who was five and uninterested in anything you’d tried to get him to do. Your mom was out with your aunt, fighting over cranberry sauce in the local grocery store. “I mean, I know you’re missing your wingwoman…”

“Charlie is having a great time in New York,” you informed her, although you couldn’t deny you were missing her. While Meg was your oldest friend and would always be your best friend, you’d found a kinship with Charlie that you knew couldn’t be matched. “But, if it gets me out of babysitting this monster –“

“Hey!” Maxwell protested, a mouth full of the popcorn he was supposed to be using as a craft material.

“- then count me in,” you finished, giving him a dry look. The five-year-old stuck his tongue out and launched popcorn towards you. “He’s a nightmare.”

Meg laughed, stealing a piece of popcorn from the plate. “Come on, Y/N. I know for a fact that Michael Novak is going to be at The Bunker tonight. And where Michael goes…” She wiggled her eyebrows but you didn’t acknowledge it, making her drop her shoulders and stomp her foot. “Come on, Y/N! I know you have got a thing for Gadreel.”

A disgusted noise left your lips. “I do not have a thing for the TA, Meg,” you insisted, getting up from your seat. “Gadreel is just a friend. He’s nice to talk to.”

“He’s nice to look at. Those arms. Yes please.”

You rolled your eyes. “Will it get you off the subject if I agree to go out with you?”

“It might.”

“Fine,” you conceded, dropping your completed popcorn string into the bowl full of them. “What time?”

Meg shrugged. “I’ll call you around eight?”

*****

Giving yourself a cursory once over in the mirror, you grabbed your purse and headed for the front door, yelling goodbye to your mom and dad, who were in the kitchen with a bottle wine listening to your aunt bitch about her ex-husband. It was a conversation you’d been involved in numerous times in the last few days and you weren’t interested in hearing it again.

Meg was waiting outside, dressed in her favorite little black dress which usually guaranteed someone getting laid. Michael Novak was her target and had been for weeks but so far, the older Novak wasn’t taking the bait. Maybe he would with her little black dress. “Hey!” she greeted, snagging your arm. “I called an Uber.”

“I was gonna drive,” you complained, knowing a cab wouldn’t get you out of drinking and your best friend damn well knew it. The look she gave you needed no words and you obediently climbed into the car when it arrived,, trying to feel at least a little excited for going out. College seemed to be a never-ending cycle of parties and events, rallies and bonfires and apparently, the vacation was no different.

The Bunker was a run-down dive just off campus, managed by a surly gentleman called Christian who was never around and left the hard work to his employees, Benjamin and Claire. Claire was the life of every party – you shared a few classes with her on campus. Ben was a little more conservative but neither of them would throw anyone out unless they were causing trouble.

Meg was inside before you’d even reached the door, chatting up all the friends she’d made. You kept to yourself, ordering a soda at the bar and finding a seat near some other students you knew, until your best friend located Gadreel and Michael, dragging you towards them despite your reluctance.

“Y/N,” Gadreel greeted, bowing his head slightly. His voice was like smooth chocolate, making your mouth water even more than the sight of his arms bulging the material of his shirt. Meg wasn’t wrong. Gadreel had very nice arms. “It is lovely to see you.”

Meg was already snuggling up to Michael, who didn’t seem as rigid as he had before, letting his arm fall easily over the brunette’s shoulders. You smiled at Gadreel and slipped into the seat next to him.

You hadn’t been lying when you said to Meg that Gadreel was nice to talk to. He was incredibly intelligent and his voice was almost hypnotic. He was a Teaching Assistant for one of your environmental science classes and it was a class no one ever missed.

Before long, Meg had managed to convince Michael to buy you some drinks. He’d obviously set his sights on the dark-haired girl for the night and you found, after a few beers, that Gadreel was definitely looking very tempting.

“We’re leaving,” Meg murmured in your ear, winking as Michael pulled her away. “Text me in the morning.”

You grinned, looking back over at Gadreel, who smiled. “I should probably be getting back. Family Christmases. Gotta love ‘em.”

“Y/N,” Gadreel started, reaching out to catch your arm when you stood. “I was wondering,” his cheeks were red now and it was kinda adorable, “if you would let me take you out to dinner. Sometime in the New Year, maybe, I know you are busy with your family -”

“I’d love to,” you gushed, covering your mouth with your hand and giggling. “Sorry. I really shouldn’t drink. Makes me giggle a whole bunch.” Gadreel smiled and you took hold of his hand. “I would love to go on a date with you, Gadreel.”

His smile widened, reaching his eyes and you couldn’t help but swoon at his attractive features. “I shall text you after the holiday,” he said, standing slowly. Your eyes went wide as he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, being the gentleman he was. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, wishing he’d do a little more than kiss you on the cheek.

Alcohol was so bad.

You grabbed your purse, smiling as you turned away towards the exit. There were plenty of cabs outside and you flagged one down, giving the driver your address as you climbed in. As the car drove along the street, away from campus, you looked out the window, just as you passed WS Autoshop. The light was on and you could see Dean bent over a car.

He was wearing his overalls, tied around his waist, just a white tank on top. He’d had more tattoos done; they spiraled down his arms and you thought you could see one peeking over the back of his top, just on the lower part of his neck.

The taxi picked up speed and Dean was whipped out of sight.

It was him you thought of as you fell into bed, not Gadreel.


	6. Chapter 6

Two weeks after the New Year, you were back on campus and getting ready for classes to start. Gadreel texted you to confirm a date, which in Meg’s eyes was a major crisis and with Charlie still out of town, it fell to her shoulders alone to prepare you.

You simply rolled your eyes and went with it.

Picking one of your dresses from your travels, one that had a long slit up the thigh and covered your legs, you paired it with a cardigan over your shoulders, covering what the straps could not. Meg helped you pin your hair up and despite her protests, you settled on minimal makeup.

You were trying to look pretty, not like a whore.

Gadreel picked you up from your dorm at eight and he was the perfect gentleman. He drove you to the restaurant on the other side of the campus, populated mostly by professors but occasionally employed for events like a date.

Doors were literally opened by Gadreel, as well as your chair pulled out and he picked out the appetizers before choosing a wine.

A perfect gentleman indeed.

By the time you’d gotten a word in and managed to order yourself a steak, you were seeing a different side to Gadreel. Sure, he was handsome, sexy, and had that melodic voice that charmed anyone he spoke to, but it seemed he was a traditionalist where it came to women.

He was already discussing a second date and you hadn’t gotten as far as where he’d been born.

When your steak arrived, you decided it would be the only date.

Dammit.

Gadreel drove you home after the meal, telling you he had a wonderful time. There was the same chaste kiss on the cheek and this time, there wasn’t any need for more. You forced a smile onto your face and climbed out of the car, walking into your dorm without looking back.

Meg was waiting.

Meg was disappointed.

“So, he’s the coffee in a box of chocolates,” she groaned, throwing herself back on the bed. “Yummy to look at, smells good but once you get a taste -” She made a disgusted noise, sighing as you stripped off the carefully planned outfit and shimmied into your fuzzy unicorn pajama pants.

January had been cold so far and the unicorn had sequins for a horn. It justified your decision to buy them.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset,” you muttered, climbing into bed and reaching for your mirror and wipes. “You’re getting laid.”

“Yeah, but you’re not,” Meg whined. “I’m failing as your friend!”

“You’re not failing as a friend,” you scoffed and Meg sat up straight, pointing a finger at you.

“You like Charlie more than me!”

Your jaw dropped as you glared at her in shock. “I do not!”

“Charlie got you a date with that Billy kid, the senior with the dreamy eyes,” Meg pointed out. “She’s a way better wingman than me.”

“Billy was using me to get back at his ex,” you spat back, pointing at her. “Who was a dude, by the way!”

“You went on three dates with him! You told me he kissed you!”

“Yeah, like a wet fish!”

Meg growled, slamming her hand on the bed. “Fine, so it’s not me,” she shrugged, “but you do like Charlie better.”

“You’re acting like you’re five,” you replied, turning your attention back to getting the makeup off of your face. “God, maybe I should go for the whore look. Might actually get laid.”

“Would you really wanna sleep with Gadreel knowing he’s a misogynistic pig?” Meg asked curiously and you laughed, shaking your head. “And the problem isn’t you, Y/N. Guys are just…”

“Assholes?”

“Some of ‘em, yeah.”

You finished wiping off your makeup and tossed the wipes in the bin, placing the mirror back on the bedside table. “Well, then, I’m done with men.”

Meg snorted. “Okay.”

“I mean it. And no women either. I've sworn off anyone of any gender.” The other girl didn’t say anything; she just stared with eyebrow arched and her arms folded across her chest. “What?” you snapped.

“Nothing,” she said, shrugging. “I just bet by next Friday, you’ll be begging for some dick.”

“Will not,” you insisted, laying now and turning the light off, rolling over to put your back to Meg, who couldn’t contain her laughter, slipping into her own bed as you sulked under your covers.

“Now who’s acting like they’re five,” she teased. “Nine days, Y/N.”

*****

_The Next Friday_

“Oh, my, God, I need to get laid,” you groaned, slumping on the bench in the quieter part of the quad. Meg instantly burst out laughing, rolling onto her back as Charlie looked at her in concern.

“What?” she demanded and Meg just laughed harder.

You scowled, slapping your friend’s thigh and she tried to control herself, sitting up and wiping at the faux tears in her eyes. “I told you! It’s Wednesday. Damn,” she chuckled again, “I shoulda put money on that.”

“Seriously,” Charlie ground out, “did I miss something?”

“Y/N, here,” Meg started, gesturing to you, “swore off of men, women and any person of any gender last week.” She smiled smugly and Charlie grinned in disbelief at you. “I told her she’d be craving the D by Friday and here we are!”

You got to your feet, grabbing your bag. “Well neither of you are any help!” you spat. “I had to sit there with Gadreel smiling at me like a loon all morning and then when he asked me out again, I froze! I FROZE!”

“What’s that gotta do with dick?” Charlie asked, shooting Meg a puzzled look.

A frustrated growl tore from your throat as you threw your bag back down again, throwing yourself in the grass beside Meg. She laughed again, shaking her head. “Because,” you mumbled, “I said “yes”.”

“Oh, you didn’t!” Meg gasped, still giggling. “Why didn’t you say you were busy? Don’t even specify, just “sorry, dude, I’m busy”.” You turned your head to look at her. “What? You tell them you’re busy and call them dude enough, they eventually get the message.”

Charlie nodded and you glared at them both. “You’re evil. The pair of you. Evil bitches.”

“Awww, honey, but we’re your evil bitches,” the redhead pointed out. “And, we know exactly what to do to sort this problem out. What day did he arrange?”

“He told me,” you gritted your teeth because he hadn’t asked at all, “to be at his dorm for six tomorrow night.”

“That’s easy then,” Charlie grinned. “We call in a favor with Rowena.” You frowned, tilting your head.

Meg had a similar expression on her face, staring at Charlie. “Rowena? Why would Professor McLeod give two hoots about us?”

“Rowena is awesome. We’ve hung out a little - she’s into witchcraft and all sorts of cool shit, aside from Environmental Studies. I helped her fix her computer and she gave me some really awesome crystals.” Charlie shrugged like it was nothing. “She’s cool.”

“You don’t even take Environmental Studies,” you pointed out. “So why do you know her?”

Charlie chuckled. “You know I have a job, right?”

“Well, we know that but -” Meg started but Charlie cut her off.

“Roman Enterprises supplies the tech for this place, the networking, everything. I’m working there in their tech support department.”

You and Meg stood in stunned silence for a moment before slowly nodding. “Yeah,” you murmured, “yeah, that actually makes sense. I thought you just like… emailed shit.” Charlie laughed and you returned to the subject at hand. “So how does Rowena come into this?”

“The TA positions are randomly assigned. Rowena got Gadreel and she can’t stand him. He’s huge, clumsy and she hates the way he talks to her, or how he talks to any of the girls in the class,” Charlie explained. “I’m betting, she’ll go out of her way to help us get your date canceled.”


	7. Chapter 7

Rowena was indeed happy to assist and you tried to sound disappointed when Gadreel called to cancel your date. Meg and Charlie sat giggling beside you, trying not to think of poor, poor Gadreel, grading late case studies for the early class the next morning.

“This doesn’t solve my problem of getting dicked,” you said, hanging up the call. “Do we know any available, non-douchey guys who could fit the required purpose?”

“Is that what you’re calling it now?” Meg teased. “I would have just gone with “booty call”.”

“Well, I’m not you,” you sniffed, turning your head away. “I have standards.”

Charlie held a hand up. “Does this mean we’re going drinking?” she asked hopefully.

Twenty minutes later, all three of you were heading off campus, aiming to find a bar that didn’t get frequented by students. Meg knew just the place - The White Horse. It was a fairly new establishment but still a dive, run like an English pub by a guy named Mick.

After the first round of drinks, you were starting to have a good time when the doors opened and a small group of men walked in. You recognized Dean straight away, along with Castiel Novak and his older brother Gabriel.

“Meg,” you murmured, glancing at her. “What’s the date today?”

She frowned, checking her phone. “The 24th, why?”

You swallowed, nodding in Dean’s direction. “It’s Dean’s 18th birthday today.” Charlie and Meg followed your line of sight, spotting the younger man across the bar. “Looks like they’re celebrating.”

“We can leave,” Charlie offered but Meg shook her head.

“No,” she said, the sentiment echoed by you, “we’re staying,” she insisted.

“At least my brother isn’t with them,” you murmured, “Mom would kill him.”

“Because you’re drinking in a completely legal and acceptable manner,” Meg pointed out, scolding you. “You’re still underage, even if Mick doesn’t give a shit.” You scowled, still watching Dean as Gabriel ordered a round of drinks.

Charlie chuckled. “We did say we were gonna get her laid, Meg.”

Your eyes went wide and you stared at Charlie in shock. “Charlie, no!”

“Dean’s gotten really hot,” Meg growled, like some sort of cougar. “Castiel too.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” you sighed. “Meg, they’re younger than us. And you’re banging Castiel’s big brother already.” She waved a hand at you dismissively. “You’d really go there?”

Meg shrugged, slouching back in her seat. “Age is just a number, baby,” she drawled, crossing one leg over the other. “Besides, Castiel’s all innocent. I kinda wanna corrupt him.” A disgusted noise came from you, mirroring Charlie’s high-pitched giggle.

Dean looked over and caught your eye. You froze, swallowing as his expression fluctuated between pissed off and relieved. Gabriel noticed he wasn’t replying to him and nudged him, only to follow his gaze and spot you at the table.

“Ohhhh,” he chuckled and Dean’s expression became a scowl. “You wanna go say hi?”

You swallowed nervously, ignoring Charlie and Meg’s chatter as Dean considered his options. He picked up his drink, watching you for a moment, before tugging on Cas’ jacket. Castiel turned, seeing you, Charlie and Meg, his entire face lighting up.

The three young men started to walk towards your table and both Meg and Charlie fell silent, staring up at the newcomers. “Mind if we join you gals?” Gabriel asked and you looked at your friends, finding no support.

“Of course!” Meg chirped, sliding along the seat. “Happy birthday, Dean!”

He smiled and tipped his glass in her direction before locking eyes with you. “Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, smiling and moving along for him to squeeze in next to you. The warmth of his thigh pressed against yours was overwhelming and you felt your mouth go dry. “Have you met Charlie?” you gestured to the redhead, who smiled.

“Hi,” Dean offered, holding out his hand and they shook, making you feel a little more relaxed.

“Did you get anything good?” Meg asked, butting in and Dean grinned, fishing in his pocket and holding a set of keys aloft. Meg recognized them instantly. “No way!”

“Are those the keys to the Impala?” you gasped, leaning towards him. His eyes slid back to you and he winked. “Your dad gave you Baby?”

“Sure did,” he drawled.

“Who’s Baby?” Charlie asked, puzzled.

You sat back, touching her shoulder. “Baby is a mint condition 1967 Chevrolet Impala and John has kept her perfect for years.”

“She’s not mint,” Dean corrected, “just very well cared for. I spent the first four years of my life in that car.”

Gabriel frowned, lifting his drink. “I thought you always lived in Lawrence?”

Dean shook his head. “I was born here. We traveled a bit before we came back.” You knew there was more to the story; you knew the whole thing, but Dean was always guarded about it. He wore his heart on his sleeve but he covered it with steel. “Baby’s always been there.”

“She’s a beautiful vehicle,” Castiel interjected and for some reason, Meg giggled.

“Another round, ladies?” Gabriel offered and the conversation quickly changed.

The night wore on and you found yourself actually enjoying Dean’s company. You realized you’d never really sat down and talked to him, not like this, and he wasn’t as crass and immature as you expected. He was intelligent and motivated, his passion for his work at the shop shone through and you remembered seeing him working late a few weeks before.

“You’re spending a lot of time at the shop?” you asked and he nodded.

“I like what I do,” he shrugged. “Sometimes if I can’t sleep or I’m restless, working on the cars helps me, y’know, process.” You stared at him, completely captivated until Meg touched your arm and made you jump.

“We’re heading off,” she said, yawning. “I’m exhausted and it’s nearly midnight. You coming?”

You looked at her, then glanced back at Dean, who was staring into his drink. “I’ll stay for a bit. Dean will make sure I get back okay.” He looked up in surprise, agreeing with a nod. Meg eyed you for a second, then smiled.

“Okay!” she announced, grabbing her coat and purse. “I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t wake me up.”

Castiel and Gabriel made their excuses, departing with Meg and Charlie, leaving you and Dean alone. Mick leaned over the bar, calling for last orders. “One more?” you asked. “It is your birthday after all.”


	8. Chapter 8

One more drink became shots and you knew things were getting out of control when you stumbled out of your seat. Dean snorted in laughter and caught you before you could fall. “You’re drunk,” he muttered, holding you in his lap and you swallowed at the close proximity.

“I am,” you replied not making a move to escape. “It’s been a while.”

“Since what?” he asked innocently but your mind took it and twisted it.

“Since  _ anything _ ,” you grumbled, forcing yourself out of his arms. Dean blinked, staring at you for a second before following you towards the exit. “I should go.” He rushed to get in front of you, blocking the way and you frowned, slamming your hands onto his chest.

His muscles were hard there too, his nipples perky under your palms and you snatched back your arms like you’d been burned.

“What’re you doin’?” you slurred and Dean smiled, taking your arm and guiding you back to the seat. Signalling the waitress, he ordered two cups of coffee and sat you back down. “Dean -”

“You’re a mess,” he interrupted. “And I promised your friends I’d get you home safe.”

“You didn’t really promise,” you pointed out, folding your arms over your chest and sulking. “You just nodded when I suggested it.” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes before plastering a smile on his face when the waitress returned with coffee. “This won’t sober me up.”

“It’ll help,” Dean bit out, pointing at the drink. “We’re not goin’ anywhere until you’ve drunk it all.” He pulled his towards him, his hand shaking a little. You picked up on his nervousness, finding it amusing that Dean would be nervous about anything.

You sipped your coffee, watching him in the dim bar light. He was fidgeting, glancing around like he was waiting for something to jump out at him. “What’s wrong with you?” you asked suddenly and his eyes shot to you. “You’re all twitchy and the Dean I know -”

He huffed, making you stop. “The Dean you know?” he sneered. “You don’t  _ know _ me, Y/N. I was just a stupid kid that got under your feet.”

“Not always,” you replied indignantly. “Sometimes you’re halfway bearable.” He snorted at that, shaking his head. “And you’re not a stupid kid now. At least you’re interesting to talk to and don’t order my food for me.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in confusion. “Not that you’ve ever taken me on a date. Or that you ever will.” You ran your fingertip around the top of the coffee cup, watching the steam rise from the hot liquid. “I’m pathetic.”

His expression softened as you kept staring into your drink, looking more miserable than he’d ever seen you. “You’re not pathetic,” he muttered. “You’re smart and funny and beautiful.” You froze, staring up at him as he avoided your eyes. “All of those things. Not pathetic.”

“Dean,” you whispered. “Is this going to be one of those drunken nights we’ll both regret in the morning?”

“Would you regret it?” he countered and you tightened your hold on your coffee cup. “Because I wouldn’t.”

“You hate me.” A confused expression crossed his face. “You’ve always hated me. I never knew why -”

His cheeks were red, flushed from either embarrassment or alcohol. “I didn’t hate you,” he admitted, scratching at the back of his head. “I’ve been in love with you since sixth grade.” Your eyes went wide at his confession and his voice grew even quieter. “And the whole time I was just your brat kid brother’s brat kid friend.”

You sat in stunned silence, unsure what to say as Dean put his true feelings on the table. Before you could sort your thoughts out into coherent sentences, a loud bell rang out through the bar. “Last call!” the owner called and the tension between you and Dean snapped.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked, his tone sultry as he reached across the table.

Swallowing, you nodded, taking his hand as he offered it. Dean threw a few dollars on the table and laced his fingers through yours, smiling at you as he led from you from the building. It was chillier outside than it had been earlier and he instantly slung his coat around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you whispered. He smiled, pulling you into his side. Neither of you spoke as you walked down the street, avoiding other pedestrians and couples. When you realized you were heading towards the auto-shop, you frowned, looking up at him.

“There’s an apartment above the shop. I sleep there sometimes when I work late,” he explained, pulling his keys from his pocket. “It’s practically a cupboard but it’s useful when I suddenly realize it’s 3 am.” You giggled, waiting patiently for him to unlock the door.

Once inside, Dean couldn’t keep his hands off of you, stealing kisses as he led you up the stairs into the small apartment. It was exceptionally small but there was a bathroom and a large bed that took up most of the main room. The sheets were rumpled from where he’d undoubtedly slept in them recently; not that it bothered you as you both fell onto them. Your hands pushed his flannel button-up off of his shoulders as Dean fought with the fastening on your top. When he finally got at your breasts, encased in lace, he groaned, mouthing at the swell of flesh spilling out of the cups.

“God, you’ve got no idea,” he growled, littering your skin with kisses, “just how fucking long I’ve wanted to do this.”

The alcohol in your system rendered your only reply a girlish giggle and Dean snarled, tearing at the hooks on your bra, desperate to have you bare underneath him. You complied, pushing your pants and underwear down as he removed his own, leaving him in only his boxers.

You plucked at the elastic waistband. “Hey,” you pouted, “I took everything off.”

Dean smirked, shedding his underwear without breaking eye contact with you. His cock was hard, thick and leaking and you reached down, wrapping your fingers around it. He groaned deeply, rolling his head in pleasure, grinding his teeth together when you stroked him. 

“That’s better,” you murmured playfully, kissing his jaw as you kept moving your fingers. “Fuck, your cock is huge,” you gasped, too much whiskey loosening your tongue and Dean chuckled, thrusting into your hand. “Fuck.”

“You curse a lot when you’re drunk,” he pointed out, pulling back and you smiled up at him, releasing your grip on him to stretch your arms up, spreading your legs. Dean groaned at the sight of your nude body laid out on his bed and his cock twitched. “You tryna kill me?” he growled, laying one massive hand on your thigh. 

When did he get so fucking big?

“Happens when you grow up,” he answered and you moaned, realizing you’d spoken aloud. Laughter vibrated in your belly as Dean pressed his face there, kissing a path down past your navel, his mirth ebbing off as he drew closer to your mound. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

There was no chance to rebuke his comment like you usually would when his tongue touched your clit, sliding down until the tip teased your entrance. You cried out and the urge to press your thighs together made them shake. Dean hauled you closer, wrapping his arms around your legs to hold them as he feasted on you.

Deep breaths grew shorter and shorter as you started to pant heavily, biting your bottom lip and muffling your own cries. You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt that final aching burst, cumming hard with Dean’s mouth on your cunt. He lapped up your juices, smacking his lips together when he straightened, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“That good, huh?” he teased and you pushed your palm into his face, forcing him backwards as he laughed. You didn’t stop until he was on his back, cock standing hard and proud from thatch of dark hair between his legs.

It was easier to see his tattoos now. The one on his arm, the smokey wing design, was a little more faded than it had been before. He’d added parts to it, building it into a full sleeve of bird-like creatures, a hippogriff and something that looked like a dragon. On his leg, there was an intricate gun tattooed from his hip down to mid-thigh.

“You enjoying yourself there?” Dean drawled, looking up at you with his hands folded behind his head. You smiled, running your fingers over the gun on his thigh.

“This is beautiful.”

He glanced down, shrugging. “Not as beautiful as you,” he replied and you felt your cheeks warm.

“Is that how you get all the ladies, Dean? Bat those pretty eyelashes and smooth talk them?” Dean chuckled, looking away. “I think there’s something magical about your tongue,” you bent down, taking his cock in your fingers again, “because no guy has ever managed to get me to cum doing that before.”

He groaned when your lips touched the tip of his shaft in a soft kiss, a little taste of what you could do to him. Swallowing down your nerves - you weren’t a first-timer with oral sex but you hadn’t done it while drunk with the world wobbling around you - you sank your mouth down around him, using your tongue to build up saliva to slick his length. Dean arched and sucked in a breath, clinging to the sheets like he’d float off otherwise.

Meg always compared it to riding a bike although you supposed doing that when drunk was probably a stupid idea too. But the noises Dean made and the way his hips shuddered, you guessed you were doing okay.

His hand tapped on the bed and you stopped, looking up. He was trying to catch his breath, chest heaving as you knelt there, his weeping cock slick between your fingers. “Stop,” Dean moaned, “otherwise I’m gonna cum and I  _ really _ wanna fuck you.”

You giggled, taking the initiative and straddling his waist, making his eyes roll back as your wet slit pressed into his cock. “What if I wanna fuck you?” you challenged and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“I think I win either way,” he snarked and you narrowed your eyes, rolling your hips just enough to catch the tip of his length slide into your soaked hole. Dean made a sound like a wounded animal, clenching his jaw as your heat swallowed his sensitive cockhead. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned.

“I win,” you crowed triumphantly, sitting straight and sliding back onto him until his cock was buried inside you. Dean groaned, straining his neck, his hands digging into your thighs as you let yourself adjust to his size. “Fuck,” you gasped, unable to do anything but  _ feel _ how fucking thick he was inside you. “Oh… fuck.”

Dean hummed his agreement, panting as he gained his bearings and looked up at you, gloriously nude on top of him, filled with his cock. Something poetic and romantic sparked in his mind, making him want to tell you just how much he wanted you, how sexy you were, everything that he loved about you. But when he opened his mouth, a single word dragged out in a heavy growl.

“ _ Fuck _ .”

You giggled, leaning over to kiss him, moaning against his mouth when it changed the angle. Dean grabbed your ass, encouraging you to move.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned. “Shouldn’t have had those last three shots.”

With a squeak, you reacted to his touch, lifting your hips in rhythm. “Don’t care, wanna feel it,” you panted, slamming down onto him over and over and Dean snarled as your inner walls squeezed him. “Please, Dean, wanna feel you cum.”

“Oh fuck,” he repeated, unable to hold his climax back. He came in thick spurts and you cried out, riding him through his orgasm, triggering your own. Your strength gave out before he was done and you slumped onto his chest, sighing contentedly when his arms surrounded you. 

Dean didn’t speak and you listened to his heart racing in his chest, hearing it slow as he calmed. You were sleepy, probably facing a hell of a hangover in the morning and your legs were beginning to cramp.

“Hey,” Dean murmured, distracting you. “I, er, I didn’t put a condom on,” he pointed out and you shrugged, lifting yourself off of his body. He groaned and grabbed the nearest thing he could find, which happened to be his boxer shorts. He cleaned up as you lounged on the bed, watching him with a lazy smile on your face. You didn’t move when Dean got back into bed with you, still nude. “So, you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“You don’t need to be anywhere?” he asked.

“It’s 2 am,” you muttered with your eyes shut. “And if that’s your hint that I should go the pharmacy, stop panicking. I’m on the pill.” Dean exhaled in relief and you snuggled up to him, patting his chest. “I’m drunk, not stupid.”

He stroked your shoulder and you smiled, humming in satisfaction, enjoying the buzz your body was still riding from the mind-blowing sex. “We should probably use something next time,” he murmured.

You grunted in irritation. “Fun fact, I hate condoms. And I trust you.” A yawn cut your words off and you didn’t see the surprised look on Dean’s face. “I’m going to sleep. Happy birthday, Dean.”

“Good idea,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “And thank you.” You were already asleep and Dean smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “For the best birthday ever.”


	9. Chapter 9

The rattling of the door woke you the next morning and you sat up as Dean walked in, two coffees in one hand and a bag from Harvelle’s in the other. “Mornin’,” he greeted, smiling at you and setting the food down on the small table next to the bed.

“Morning,” you replied, wiping your eyes. “Oh god, how much did I drink last night? My mouth -” You made a face trying not to taste the lingering whiskey on your breath. Dean passed you a coffee and you took it, sipping at the hot liquid. “Uh, wonderful. Nectar of the gods.”

He was still smiling as he sat on the bed, making you very aware you were only covered by the thin sheet. “I got bagels,” he offered, pointing at the bag.

“If you don’t mind,” you started, swallowing your mouthful of coffee, “I’ll wait and see if my hangover kicks in first.” Dean chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Boy, I’m glad I don’t have to do anything today. My head is real heavy.”

A second passed and Dean cleared his throat. “You… remember everything?”

You frowned at him. “Of course I do,” you snapped. “I got drunk and you let me crash here.” His face fell and you smiled, shaking your head. “After the fantastic sex,” you added and he scowled, relief in his eyes. “I remember. And it was good.” Shivers traveled down your spine. “ _ Really _ good.”

His scowl turned into a smug grin and he sipped his coffee with his shoulders held a little higher. You hummed happily, holding your cup in both hands. 

“What are your plans for the day?” you asked and Dean looked around.

“I was gonna stay here and fuck you some more,” he said casually and you almost choked. “You know, if you’re okay with that.”

You nodded, still struggling to swallow. “I’m - I’m good,” you stuttered.

Three hours later, you were questioning lunch as you lay on your back, fighting to catch your breath from the last round of intense sex. Dean was lounging on his side, watching you chatter away the pros and cons.

“You’re kind of adorable,” he commented, interrupting your musings on Subway versus McDonalds. “Has anyone ever told you that?” You stopped talking, face flushed as he chuckled at you. “Because you definitely are adorable.”

Shoving his shoulder dramatically, you protested when he dragged you closer. “Hey, I was trying to decide on lunch.”

Dean shrugged, leaning in to kiss you. “The real question is who’s gonna go get it,” he posed, leaving kisses down your throat, stopping when he reached your breasts. His hand carried on going, sliding between your thighs and tickling at your sensitive folds. “I mean, I got breakfast -”

You sucked in a breath as he stroked over your clit, the intense sensation making your hips jerk upwards. “You want me to go?”

He suckled at your nipple and you cried out, grinding onto his hand. When he released your breast with a wet pop, you whimpered. “We could go together.”

“Outside?” you asked and his hand stopped, a frown dipping his eyebrows. “You want us to go together outside?”

Dean withdrew, sitting up and looking down at you. “Yeah. Why? What’s wrong with that?”

“Dean, I -” You stared at him, unsure exactly what he’d been expecting from your encounter. “I didn’t think… wasn’t this just sex?” His jaw dropped and his eyes hardened as he withdrew even more and you sat up, clutching the sheet to your chest. “I thought this was just a bit of fun -”

“Yeah, it was real fun putting my fucking soul out bare for you to stomp on,” Dean spat, grabbing for his clothes. He dressed quickly as you watched in shock. “You know where the door is.”

“Dean!” His name came out high pitched and desperate and he looked back at you, tears in his eyes that he was struggling to hold back. “I don’t understand what’s happened!”

Sniffing, Dean dragged his sleeve across his face, wiping away the tears. His bottom lip was wobbling as he focused his reddening eyes on yours. “What happened was that I told you I loved you. What happened was supposed to be the best night of my life and for you… it was just a bit of fun.”

“You thought we were dating now?” you scoffed. “Dean, we were drunk. And it  _ was _ fun. But you’re… you’re younger than me.” His entire body went stiff. “It wouldn’t work out.” Something changed in his posture and he sneered. “Dean?”

“You know what? You’re right. But thanks anyway.” He reached for the door handle, pausing against before he turned it. “I know you’ve slept with other people,” he muttered, barely audible and you strained to hear him. “And I still think we should have been careful.”

You shrugged. “You’ve been tested right? No way you have anything?”

He hesitated for a second, making a suspicion blossom in your chest. “No way,” Dean agreed, nodding and he went quiet. Whatever he was going to say wasn’t forthcoming and he opened the door. “See you around, Y/N.”

The door closed behind him and you sat there, still none the wiser to what had occurred. Everything had been fine, you’d been having a great time and actually getting laid for a change then he’d just… changed right back into his mean-tempered alter-ego.

Dressing yourself slowly, you took your time heading home. Meg was sitting with Charlie when you walked in, her face screwed up in concern. “When I say “don’t wake me”, I don’t mean “don’t come home at all”. And your phone was off! I was having kittens!”

You didn’t reply, trudging past her to fall onto her bed.

“Someone’s doing the walk of shame,” Charlie pointed out, smirking as Meg’s eyes widened in realization. “She got nailed last night,” the redhead continued, pumping her fist in the air. “And she got nailed good!”

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Meg squealed and you grabbed a pillow covering your head with it. “But we left you with Dean.” Her eyes went wider again. “H _ oly _ F _ riggin _ S _ hitballs _ , Y/N, did you fuck Dean Winchester?” You groaned rolled over toward the wall, putting your back to your friends.

“She totally fucked Dean Winchester,” Charlie giggled as Meg screamed.

“Oh. My. God,” you snapped, sitting upright and launching the pillow at Meg who laughed and caught it. “Yeah, I fucked Dean Winchester. We fucked all night and all morning, he’s got a cock like a fucking horse, his tongue is magical and he’s built like a Greek god. Happy now?”

Charlie clapped as Meg stared at you with her hand over her mouth. “You go, girl!”

You dropped your head into your hands and sighed heavily, making Meg frown. “Hey,” she murmured, coming to sit next to you on your bed. “Was it not good?”

“What part of “his tongue is magical” did you not hear?” you growled back. “The sex was amazing. Honestly, I think he ruined me for any other man.” You sat up straight and Meg was still staring at you with a frown, waiting for you to tell her the rest. “But then, this morning, he freaked out. When I said it was just a bit of fun, he got all  defensive and left!” A disgusted snort left your lips and you scowled. “ _ And _ ,” you added, “he implied that I’ve slept with lots of people and that we should have used a condom. Like I was some stupid kid!”

“He called you a slut?” Charlie asked, sounding angry. You shook your head.

“No, he didn’t call me anything. Which is kind of odd. Usually when Dean’s pissed off, he at least calls me a bitch.” You looked down at your hands. “He was upset but he wasn’t spiteful. He said something about telling me he loved me -” both girls gasped, “and then that it had been the best night of his life.” Glancing up, you blinked at the horrified looks on their faces. “What?”

“He said that he loved you?” Meg repeated.

“And that it was the best night of his life?” Charlie held up a hand. “Was he crying?”

The conversation was growing more and more confusing by the moment. “It was sweet, honestly, but he doesn’t love me, he’s -”

“Been in love with you since sixth grade!” Meg cried, slapping her palm to her forehead. “Oh my god, Y/N, I love you but sometimes you are dumb as a rock.” She stood up, pacing the room. “Dean was a  _ virgin _ , Y/N. You totally took his V-card last night and then shit on it.”

Your jaw dropped; Charlie nodded in agreement behind your original best friend. “No,” you whispered, “no, he couldn’t have been. I heard my brother talking, that he was dating a different girl every week, that he was some kind of stud around school -”

“All lies,” Meg sighed. “Michael still has a room at his parent’s house and he overheard Castiel talking about losing his virginity. Dean said he hadn’t gone further than second base and Benny -” She stopped, realizing she was talking about your little brother.

“Dude, no way,” Charlie gasped and you grimaced in disgust.

“I don’t wanna hear about my brother, okay?”

“I wanna hear about Dean,” Charlie chirped, throwing herself across the room onto your bed, sprawling beside you. “Come on, girlfriend, spill it.”

“You’re a lesbian,” you pointed out and she shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a good erotica.” She giggled, shaking her red hair out. “Besides, some of us aren’t getting any at the moment and would like to live vicariously through your vagina.”

“She’s shipping you,” Meg drawled, rolled her eyes and folding her arms over her chest. “But she’s not wrong. We need details.” You groaned, covering your face. “C’mon, Y/N! I always tell you about my guys.”

Your head snapped up. “You  _ force _ me to listen!” you accused and Meg shrugged, dismissing your complaint with a wave of her hand.

“To-ma-to, to-mate-to,” she hissed. “Details.”

“You really think it was his first time?” you pondered aloud and Meg nodded, sinking back down onto her bed. “Oh, god, and it was his birthday too. Did I just ruin his life?”

Charlie rubbed your back gently. “Not if you didn’t want a relationship with him. It’s probably better that you stopped it before it went any further.”

You groaned again. “How could it go any further than putting your mouth on someone’s genitals?” you whined miserable. “Or your genitals on someone genitals?” Charlie sniggered loudly and Meg tried to hide her smile. “Guys, this is serious. I just fucked my brother’s best friend. There’s no way he won’t find out.”

Meg thought for a moment then looked at you, giving you hope that she had a plan. “I guess…” Her expression turned sympathetic. “We’re gonna have to get a bag for your head.”


	10. Chapter 10

Slogging through classes that week was hell. Your mind was all over the place and you couldn’t focus. Sleep was not restful - you’d wake up horny and aching after dreaming of various parts of Dean’s anatomy. You didn’t have his number to call him and what the hell could you say anyway?

“ _ Hey, sorry I broke your heart and all but the sex was so good, I can’t stop thinking about it _ ,” you mimicked yourself, slamming your textbook shut. The bedroom door opened and Meg wandered in, Michael Novak on her tail.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “I thought you had class.”

You looked up at the clock and cursed loudly. “Shit. I’m late. Sorry, guys. Have fun!” Grabbing your bag, you ran out the door, leaving a bewildered Meg behind. When you skidded to a halt outside the lecture hall, you lost your balance and slipped on the tiles, landing painfully on your back.

“Graceful.” Dean’s voice preceded a slow clap and his hand appeared in view. “Ten out of ten.”

“Thank you,” you replied through gritted teeth as he helped you out. “What are you doing here?” He looked hurt for a second but recovered it quickly, his expression becoming steel. “Are you -” You swallowed, nervous all of a sudden. “Are you here to see me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Dean sneered. “I’m picking Sam up from his AP class.”

The spite in his tone was outweighed by your surprise at his statement. “Wow. Isn’t Sam like, 14 now?”

“Nearly 14,” he corrected, pride seeping into his voice. “He’s already a year ahead at school and he’s taking these classes for extra credit.”

“He’s real smart, huh?” You smiled as he did, clearly proud of his younger sibling. “He’s coming all the way out here for AP classes?”

One of the doors opened down the hall and Dean turned as a class emptied, his brother easy to spot among all the tall students. Sam waved and Dean looked back at you. “I gotta go,” he said coldly. “See ya around.”

“Dean, wait!” Catching his sleeve, you forced him to stop, not even sure what you were going to say. “Look, about the other night -”

“S’fine,” he snapped, snatching his arm out of your hold. “Was just a bit of fun, right? We had a good time, had a few laughs -”

“Don’t quote Die Hard at me, buddy,” you growled, pointing a finger at him. “I’m trying to apologize. It was supposed to be special for you.”

His cheeks went red and he avoided your eyes. “It was just a birthday. Nothing special,” he mumbled, looking nervous as hell as the crowd of students approached. You lowered your voice, stepping in close to him.

“It should have been special if it was your first time,” you said quietly, reaching up to cup his cheek. Before you could touch him, his hand closed around your wrist stopping you and a frightening look came over his face.

It was pure agony. You’d hurt him.

“You think I‘d know how to eat pussy like that if that was my first time,  _ sweetheart _ ?” he snarled, close enough for you to smell his aftershave. “Think I’ve never had a tight little cunt on my dick?” He was smiling now, almost cruel. “You ain’t my first, honey, and you won’t be my last.”

“Dean,” you whispered, tugging your wrist out of his hand. “You’re being -”

“Childish?” he offered sarcastically and you huffed in irritation. “I gotta take my brother home.” His dismissal left you gaping, not bothering to cover your shock when Sam approached. Dean turned to him, schooling his features. “Hey, buddy. Thought we could swing by Harvelle’s for dinner.”

“Awesome!” Sam high-fived his big brother then waved at you. “Hi, Y/N!”

“Hi… Sam…” you faltered, meeting Dean’s eyes. He was lying, you were certain of it. Or you’d fooled yourself into some kind of fantasy where he’d loved you enough to save himself for you. Either way, you’d caused the hurt in his gaze.

You didn’t say anything else to stop him as he walked away with Sam, chattering happily. What more could you say? It felt like you’d been shot in the heart, like you couldn’t breathe. Had that night just been a bit of fun? Or had it just woken feelings you’d had all along?

The age gap wasn’t that bad. You were both adults.

Class was forgotten as you slumped down the wall on the corridor floor, ignored by students as they passed. Dean was long gone. Even if you saw him again now it wouldn’t matter.

Dean Winchester hated you.

*****

_ Ten months later _

“ _ So you’re coming home for Thanksgiving? _ ”

Your mom’s voice was so hopeful and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. The holiday was two weeks away and she was bugging you to visit. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been home in months. “I’m gonna see if I can get the time off work.”

“ _ Please try, sweetie, _ ” she pleaded and you swallowed your own lies. “ _ We miss you, so much. The whole family is going to be here. _ ” There was a pause and she sighed. “ _ Meg comes home every other weekend. I don’t know why you can’t come with her _ .”

_ Because I don’t want to see Dean. _

“It’s just work, Mom. School’s expensive and I’m not gonna put that all on you.” You sighed, leaning against the wall. “I’ll try my best,” you lied again,  _ to your mother, the woman who birthed you, the woman who gave you life and raised you _ . You tried to ignore the thoughts.

Your mother sighed down the phone and you could see her nodding in her still-green kitchen. “ _ Okay, baby. I gotta go pick Benny up for his orthodontist appointment. Talk soon! Love you! _ ”

“Love you too, Mom,” you whispered. “Bye.” Ending the call, you slumped across the room, falling onto the bed. Charlie raised an eyebrow from where she was painting Meg’s toenails.

“Are you still avoiding going home? Even for the holiday?” she challenged and you gave her a dry look. “But, you’ll be alone!”

Meg scoffed. “Her mom invited the whole family.” Charlie shrugged, pulling a face. “That means she invited the whole neighborhood.”

You rolled over onto your face. “Which means she invited the Winchesters.”

“Oh,” Charlie muttered then shook her head. “Why is that a problem again?”

“Because,” Meg swatted the redhead away from her toes, “Y/N here is head over heels in love with Dean Winchester. Now, as you and I,” she paused to gesture widely with one arm, “and the rest of Kansas know, Dean Winchester has loved her since he could write his own name in crayon.”

A disgusted noise left you as Charlie giggled at the imagery. “Except Y/N fucked up,” you mimicked in a high pitch voice.

“Y/N fucked up,” Meg confirmed. “She spent a wonderful night with our beautiful protagonist and then, accidentally, crushed his heart into a million tiny pieces.” You winced and Meg sighed dramatically, covering her heart with one hand. “She tried to fix it but alas, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall and is now whoring his way around Lawrence to show that he’s a real man.” Her words finished in a drawl and you felt a little bit sick.

“He’s not  _ whoring _ ,” Charlie corrected. “Anyone is entitled to multiple sexual partners without judgement as long as they’re safe.” You blinked, sharing a look with Meg and Charlie grunted, annoyed. “Don’t slut shame.”

“To be fair, we’ve yet to have proof he’s actually  _ slept _ with anyone else,” Meg conceded. “We know he’s dating.”

You clutched a pillow to your chest, sighing heavily. “We know he’s been dating Lisa  _ fucking _ Braeden,” you spat. “And she’ll spread her legs for anyone.”

“Oh my god with the slut shaming!” Charlie threw her hands up. “It’s a healthy expression of physical intimacy.”

“It’s also a way to get the keys to your step-dad’s Beamer,” Meg muttered out of the corner of her mouth and you laughed before Charlie set her glare on you and you stopped. “Anyway, all that aside, Dean hasn’t had her stay the night.”

“How would you know?” you asked, frowning at her.

“I happen to have a little sister, remember? A little sister who is obsessed with Sam Winchester? He’s tutoring her in American History.” Meg leaned back on the bed, grinning. “And said little sister is completely rooting for you.” You stared at her and Meg lifted a hand in a little wave. “You’re welcome.”

“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t stayed at her place,” Charlie pointed out and you raised your eyebrows when Meg sagged again, falling all the way back.

“I give up,” she wailed.

You rolled over, cuddling your pillow like it was the only boyfriend you’ll ever have. It hurt to think of some other woman touching Dean. But he wasn’t yours to lay that claim on.

Not that it made it any easier.


	11. Chapter 11

Your resolution not to go home for Thanksgiving was shattered when Benny turned up at your dorm at 3pm the day before, a scowl on his face and your old Corvette in the street.

“Guess what?” he growled and you literally gulped. “When Dad asked me to take a look at your car a month ago because it “broke”? There was nothing wrong with it.” He held up his hands peacefully. “Now, I know, you got a lot on with college and shit. But you missed my birthday,” his voice got a little whiny, “and now Mom says you’re not coming home for Thanksgiving?”

“Benny,” you whispered, reaching out to him.

“Is this because of Dean?” he asked suddenly and you froze, a sick feeling in your belly. “Because I know he’s mean to you but I can explain all that and I promise he won’t be bringing Lisa, I can’t stand her.” Your face fell and you stepped back, making Benny realize he was right. “It is Dean, isn’t it?”

“No, Benny -”

“He’s in love with you,” Benny blurted out. “He’s been in love with you since -”

“Sixth grade,” you murmured. “I know, Benny.” You stepped inside your room, slumping onto the bed as he walked in and closed the door. “I’m not coming because…” God, you were about to tell your brother you had sex with his best friend. He was probably going to vomit. “Dean and I slept together,” you admitted.

Benny didn’t say anything.

“It was on his birthday,” you continued. “We were drunk and -”

“Oh, yeah, that’s enough,” Benny grunted, covering his ears with his hands. “Don’t overshare. I get enough of that with Cas.” You smiled, blinking away tears. “So you hooked up. What, did he pretend it didn’t happen?”

Shaking your head, you sniffed and Benny moved to sit next to you. “No, I thought it was just a one night thing but Dean -” You didn’t need to continue as Benny sighed, scratching the scruff on his cheek. “Things were said. And when I tried to talk to him, he said -” Clamming up, you realized that Benny might not know Dean had lost his virginity to you. “He said some mean things,” you finished, sounding like a preschooler.

Your not-so-little brother stood up, pacing across the room. “I’m torn. I wanna punch him for hurting my sister and hooking up with Lisa, and I wanna hit you because you hurt my best friend and you’re not coming home to avoid him.” He sighed. “And I can’t hit you.”

“Why?” you snorted. “Because I’m a girl?”

Benny laughed. “No. Because you’ll hit me back and you punch hard.” He looked at you with sympathy on his face. “How am I supposed to solve this dilemma?”

“I was just staying here so it wouldn’t be awkward,” you confessed. “You work with him, he’s your best friend -”

“I never see him anymore,” Benny interrupted. “Only at work, when he turns up.” You frowned and Benny sat on Meg’s bed, clasping his hands together. “Since he met Lisa, all he does is hang out with her friends and drink. He doesn’t go home, just crashes in the apartment above the shop.”

Well, that completely shot down Meg’s confirmation that he was going home alone. He wasn’t going home at all. “So he’s…”

“He’s gone off the rails. She encourages him.” Benny ran a hand through his hair. “Come home for Thanksgiving, Y/N. Tell Dean how you feel before he completely ruins his life.” You hesitated, still not sure you were the thing to stop him. “Please,” Benny begged softly. “Dean’s my best friend and I know you love him too. You gotta come home and help him.”

Slowly, you nodded and Benny skidded forward across the rug, wrapping his arms around you and you squeaked. “Okay! Okay! Fine, put me down!” He released you, smiling widely. “God, I can see why you’re getting a football scholarship.”

“Well if you came to one of my games once in a while,” he chided and you elbowed him.

“Let me pack a bag,” you grumbled, reaching for your suitcase. Benny grinned and pumped his fist in the air and you took a deep breath.

It was time to go home.

*****

Your mom was fussing non-stop the second you walked in the door. She’d baked your favorite cookies and had literally invited the neighborhood to dinner. The turkey in the oven looked like it barely fit, leaving you wondering if it was a fire hazard for most of the night.

Sleeping in your old bed was nostalgic, not that you got much sleep. You woke at six-thirty when Benny’s bedroom door opened. Creeping out into the hallway, you hissed at your brother and he turned, holding his sneakers in one hand. “Where are you going?” you asked, holding your stomach, feeling a little stupid in your Harry Potter pyjamas.

“Training,” he muttered. “And I’m late.”

“Training? It’s Thanksgiving.”

Benny chuckled. “Yeah. Physical fitness. Wanna come?”

You pulled a face. “No thanks.” He laughed again. 

“Catch ya later, alligator!”

“In a while, crocodile,” you tossed back, watching him disappear down the stairs and out the front door. Returning to your room, you sat on your bed, wondering what to do now you were wide awake.

A hour later, your mom got up, finding you in the kitchen already preparing the vegetables. “Sweetheart!” she exclaimed. “I overslept. You should have woken me.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” you replied, chopping up the carrots finely. “I found your schedule.” She blushed at the discovery of her secret. “Mom, I grew up watching you effortlessly do all these things. I know how you work.”

“Well,” she said slowly, clasping her hands together, “I guess I should get my apron. Many hands make light work!”

“Especially when you’re feeding the five-friggin-’ thousand,” you mumbled, returning to your task.

By 1pm, the house was bustling with life. You reconnected with half-a-dozen school friends and their parents, and Meg had been exceptionally happy at your surprise return.

“Dean’s not here,” you muttered as your mom called everyone in for a toast. The house was packed and you stood at the back with Meg, listening to your mom give her thanks. At that moment, the front door opened and Dean appeared, his eyes connecting with yours and the whole world seemed to freeze.

Relief flooded you at the sight of him and he entered the house, leaving the door open for Lisa Braeden who marched in behind him wearing too much makeup and not enough clothing.

Dread replaced relief.

Dean slipped over to join his brother, Lisa clinging onto his arm like a parasite. Your mom kept on talking but you zoned out, staring at the back of Dean’s head, willing him to look at you. “I thought Benny said she wasn’t coming?” Meg hissed.

You turned, moving past everyone to escape out the back door, running to the bottom of the backyard where it was quiet and dark. Finding the old swing you’d tied to the big oak tree bordering the yard, you pulled the weeds off of it and sat down, feeling it creak under your weight.

Meg didn’t come after you. She wouldn’t, not right away. Being friends for so long meant that she knew when you needed a few minutes to cool down.

“Hey, kiddo.” You looked up, frowning when you saw Gabriel Novak in front of you. He grinned, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “Love life problems, huh?”

You tipped your head, confused as to how he knew what your problems were and he strolled closer, standing behind you and pushing the swing. Bewildered, you lifted your feet, letting it sway under his hold.

“Lay it on me, kid. I’m something of an agony aunt.” A smirk tugged at your lips and Gabriel chuckled. “C’mon. Wait, let me guess first.” He paused, humming to himself. “Dean Winchester,” he guessed and you sighed, nodding. “Right, right, stands to reason. You two have been dancing like reluctant scorpions since you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”

“What’s with all the insects?” you asked and Gabriel tutted.

“Scorpions are arachnid but common mistake.” He pushed the swing again. “I’m still deducing, so shh.” You frowned - Gabriel had always been the oddest Novak but he was friendly, unlike his brother Michael who was a complete ass. According to Meg.

“A-ha!” Gabriel announced. “Lisa Braeden.”

You made a disgusted noise, standing up off the swing and Gabriel skidded to a halt. “Benny promised she wouldn’t be here,” you growled, kicking at the dirt under your feet. “And now I can’t talk to him because  _ she’ll _ be there.”

“Well, you never know,” Gabriel started, looking past you back up the yard. “He might just come and talk to you all by his lonesome.”

A puzzled look covered your face. “What?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean murmured from behind you and you turned quickly enough to get dizzy, almost landing on your butt before Dean caught you. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve fallen for me.”

The comment made you slap at his shoulder so he dropped you, letting you land on the dry earth. Dean stood straight, smiling at Gabriel. “You good?” Gabriel asked, directing his question at you.

“I’m good,” you grunted, scowling at him and getting to your feet. Gabriel saluted and walked off, whistling to himself as he went. “Did you set that up?” you demanded and Dean looked over his shoulder.

“What? That?” He shook his head. “No. Gabriel’s just weird. He told me the other day that I shouldn’t settle for the bottom shelf porn when I could get a ladder.”

You blinked, pausing a moment before brushing yourself down. “Why did you come out here then?”

“I saw you leave,” he confessed. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you stated, lying through your teeth. “I just needed some air.”

“You know, Gabriel talks really loudly,” Dean informed you, leaning forward. “You’re upset Lisa is here.” You stared at him defiantly, unwilling to seem so petty and he sighed. “She’s my girlfriend. She wanted to meet people.”

Your bottom lip stuck out a little as you started to nod, looking away to fight the tears. “And that’s your choice,” you replied, clearing your throat. One tear escaped and Dean frowned, shaking his head. “And it’s mine,” you continued, falling into the rabbit hole. “Because I gave it up. I rejected it because I didn’t realize… I didn’t realize how close I was the thing I wanted most. All I saw was pain and misery.” You laughed loudly, tears tracking down your cheeks with no resistance. “And all I have,” you whispered, “is pain and misery.” Dean stared at her, mouth agape. “But I’m glad you’re happy, Dean.”

Wiping your face, you started to walk past him, back up to the house but his hand whipped out and caught your elbow.

“Y/N, wait,” he started, pulling you back to him. You found yourself pressed against his firm body, remembering that night, your core warming at the thought of how much taller he seemed. Dean’s breath coasted over your lips and you licked them, itching to taste him again.

“Dean!” A shrill voice shattered the moment and you jumped away like you’d been electrocuted. Dean blinked and shook his head like he was in a trance. Lisa trotted down the garden, smiling widely. “There you are, baby,” she purred.

You wanted to punch her teeth out.

“Lisa,” Dean greeted, forcing his expression to brighten. You took the opportunity to leave when she accosted him, wrapping her body around his like a boa constrictor going in for the kill. Without looking back, you disappeared into the house and up to your room.

When your mom and dad woke up the next morning, Benny gave them the note he found on the table. You’d gone back to your dorm. Being home was too hard for you, you explained, and you couldn’t deal with it. But you promised to visit.

You didn’t answer their calls.


	12. Chapter 12

“You sure I can’t tempt you with a couple of weeks in New York?” Charlie asked, loitering by the door. You waved at her dismissively as you read through your latest book. “Y/N -”

“I appreciate the mother-henning, Charlie, I do,” you sat up, putting the book down, “but you’re going to miss your flight and you won’t get another one this close to Christmas.”

The redhead pouted. “I don’t wanna leave you alone!”

“It’s a week,” you replied, exasperated. Getting to your feet, you marched across the room and shoved her out the door. “You’ll be back for New Year. We’ll get drunk, high, whatever you wanna do. I’ll even play Wheel Of Fortune with you.”

Charlie brightened and smiled. “I’ll call you when I land?”

“You better,” you threatened, blowing her a kiss. “I love you, buh-bye.” You shut the door, hearing Charlie laughing on the other side. A second later, your phone went off with a text from her, simply calling you a bitch. Returning to your book, you fell back into the story, dozing off with one arm pinned underneath your head.

You woke up to a loud banging and a completely numb arm. Peeling your face off of your sleeve, you got off the bed, knocking the book onto the floor. Stumbling toward the door, you yelled out that you were coming, opening it to find a red-faced Dean on the other side.

“Dean?” you muttered, confused and he nodded, gasping for breath. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Benny,” he explained, clutching the door frame. You felt like all the blood drained out of you and cold took hold of your bones as you noticed the cuts and scratches all over his face. “Your mom tried to call -”

Guilt assaulted you from all sides - you’d been avoiding the “why aren’t you coming home for Christmas” talk. “Is he -” You couldn’t say it, couldn’t  _ think _ it.

Dean swallowed, shaking his head. “He’s alive but… it’s not good.” He gestured to your room. “Pack a bag. Please?”

You nodded, turning to do as he asked but you were so flustered, you couldn’t think where to start. Turning one way, then the other, you screamed in frustration and then Dean was there in front of you, holding your shoulder steady as you sobbed.

“Breath, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “One step at a time, okay?” You nodded again, slowing your breathing. “C’mon,” Dean murmured, rubbing your bag. “Let’s get you home.”

*****

The journey was silent to start and you stared out of the window, finding the seat of the truck uncomfortable. Dean didn’t turn the music on and eventually, it became unbearable.

“What happened?” you asked, not looking at him.

Dean sighed heavily. “We were working late at the shop two nights ago. I was giving Benny a ride home when an out of control van hit the passenger side of the Impala.”  He rubbed a hand over his face. “I got off with a few cuts and bruises, a broken rib,” he looked over at you, unable to see your face, “but Benny was hit with the full impact.”

“Is he going to die?” you choked out, dropping your chin into your chest as you started to cry again. Dean didn’t have an answer; his vision was blurring with tears. “Is that why you came to get me?”

“I came to get you because you’re the most important person in Benny’s life,” he said quietly. “He’s my best friend. My brother. And… you mean a lot me too,” he admitted and you finally looked up at him.

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered.

Dean shook his head, a dry laugh leaving him. “I could never hate you.”

You fell silent, staring out of the window as the truck drove down the main highway toward Lawrence General. After a few moments, the building came into view and Dean slowed as he approached the parking lot.

“Listen,” Dean started as he turned off the engine. “That thing at Thanksgiving -”

“It’s forgotten,” you blurted out. “I was being stupid and emotional.” Dean frowned, opening his mouth to argue. “I’m over it. Honestly. I really hope you and Lisa -” Your dad was stood across the parking lot,  _ smoking _ , and you trailed off. “- are happy. I’ll see you in there.”

You bolted from the car, running toward your dad, who quickly flicked the cigarette away. Dean watched from the car, sighing as it began to rain and you turned into the hospital with your father.

“I love you,” he finished. “I left Lisa because I love you.”

Leaning over, Dean pulled the door of the car shut properly and started the engine again. Reversing out of the parking lot, he drove off, not looking back.

*****

“Mom’s a mess,” you said, leaning against the wall where your phone was plugged in and charging. “I don’t know what else to do but keep giving her decaf until she falls asleep.”

“ _ How long has he been in surgery? _ ” Meg asked, chewing a carrot stick on the screen of her phone. “ _ Maybe she should go home for some rest. _ ”

You shook your head, frowning at the screen. Meg had changed her filter to bunny ears. “Seriously?” Meg giggled. “Look, I’m gonna head home soon to shower and change. Dad is exhausted, so I’m gonna take him with me. He’s easier to persuade but Mom… Mom isn’t leaving her baby boy.”

“ _ Hey, _ ” Meg chided, wagging her finger. “ _ Your mom would do the same for you. Now, go be a good daughter. _ ”

With a smile you nodded. “Hey, before you go, have you seen Dean?” Meg shook her head and you frowned again. “He dropped me off here two days ago and I haven’t seen him since. It’s Christmas Day tomorrow and…”

“ _ I saw him yesterday at the garage. I forgot to tell you, he’s really sorted himself out this last month. Ditched the idiot girlfriend, sorted out an apartment of his own. He’s doing really well. _ ” You blinked in surprise and Meg grinned. “ _ He’ll turn up. Benny’s his best friend. He won’t be able to stay away. _ ”

“I hope you’re right,” you whispered, unable to shake the feeling that you’d fucked up again. “I’m gonna go make sure Mom hasn’t gotten hold of an espresso machine. Catch you later.” You hung up the call and pocketed your phone, yanking the cable from the wall.

Scurrying down the corridor, you found your dad slumped in the hallway chair, your mom dozing on his shoulder. He gave you an exhausted look, trying to smile.

“Any news?” you asked and he shook his head. Your mom didn’t even stir. “Dad, take her home. She’s out of it and she needs to sleep. I’ll stay here.”

“Sleep deprivation isn’t going to kill me,” your mother suddenly chirped, sitting up, “but it might hurt your education.”

“Mom, please,” you begged, on your knees. “I’m fine. But I gotta worry about Benny. I don’t… I can’t worry about you too,” you finished and your mom softened, cupping your face for a second before turning to your dad.

“Take me home, dear,” she asked and you smiled, waiting for her to move before slumping into her seat. Your dad bent over, kissing your forehead.

“Call if you need anything,” he whispered, the message loud and clear;  _ call if you hear anything _ .

The corridor grew quieter as the evening drew on. You played games on your phone and text stupid photos on Snapchat to Meg and Charlie, who’d arrived in New York without trouble. She sent you a picture of a hotdog that looked like a penis, which made you snort loudly and attract the attention of a stern-looking nurse.

It was one minute past midnight and Meg had just sent you a picture of her blowing a kiss, the filter filling the screen up with snow. The doors opened from the surgical theatre and the doctor that had been working on Benny walked out.

You stood up, wondering if it was about to be the worst Christmas of your life.

The doctor smiled. “Your brother made it through with brilliant results. We’ve repaired the damage and he should wake up soon.” For a second, you failed to absorb the information and then, you lost control. You weren’t a hugger - as a general rule, you didn’t like being touched by anyone you didn’t know. 

He was bemused when you wrapped your arms around him and later, you surmised he’d probably had that reaction a lot.

“He’s going to be in a lot of pain but his prognosis is good. We’ll explain everything else when your parents get here, okay?”

“I’ll call them,” you nodded excitedly. “How long until we can see him?”

“A few hours,” the doctor advised, looking over your shoulder as booted feet stomped down the hallway. “Let them rest a while longer. He’s going to be fine.” You turned in the direction of the footsteps, shock rendering you silent as Dean approached you slowly. The doctor slipped away, leaving you alone in the corridor.

“Dean,” you exclaimed softly. “Benny’s… he’s going to be fine.”

Dean smiled, holding out a small box wrapped in bright red paper. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you softly. It startled you for a moment before you pulled away.

“Where have you been?” you hissed, suddenly pissed at him. “You turn up on my doorstep with earth-shattering news, drive me here and disappear for two days?” It was hard not to yell but you were mindful that you were in a hospital.

“I had to work. Busy season and we’re short-staffed. Plus, I went over to your folks place and cleaned up, seein’ as they were up here worryin’.” He paused, touching your shoulder with one hand. “I had someone keeping me updated.”

“A nurse, I suppose,” you grunted.

Dean laughed, “yeah, actually. But he’s a really good friend.” You felt heat rush to the tip of your ears in shame and dropped your eyes to the small box he’d given you. 

“What is this?”

He took his hand back, a nervous smile on his face. “It’s your Christmas present,” he said. “It’s stupid but…” He sighed heavily. “Look, I’ve been an absolute ass. I nearly fucked everything up because I preferred drinking away my problems instead of facing things and clearing it up.”

You looked at the box again, lifting one hand to pull the lid off. Inside was a little red chip with a big “30” in gold. Dean lifted his shoulders, trying to smile.

“I’m thirty days sober. I wasn’t an alcoholic yet but it was getting that way and Benny suggested it. He saw us at Thanksgiving. Chewed me out for having Lisa there. She’s -” He dropped his head as you stared at the chip, holding it up in your fingers. “She wasn’t my girlfriend. I mean, we went on a date but after that, it was more her not leaving me alone.”

“You told me she was your girlfriend,” you mumbled. “Why would you tell me that?”

“I wanted you to be jealous,” Dean confessed, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t care that she was using me for money or that I was drinking too much. I just wanted to feel…. Something.” He raised his eyes to yours again. “She’s not in the picture. After I ditched her, she was caught attempting to burn the auto-shop down. I think,” he tilted his head, squinting a little, “she might have been a little crazy.”

“Wow,” you murmured, “all that in a few months? What else did I miss?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Not much,” he assured you, taking your hands, mindful of the chip you still held. “And I know this is gonna be a horrible Christmas but I’m here. Anything you need, I’m here.”

You smiled, putting the sobriety chip in your pocket, cupping his face. “Right now, I just need you.” Tugging him backwards, you pointed up at the mistletoe hanging among the hospitals low budget decorations. Dean grinned up at it and back to you. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

He lowered his mouth to yours, kissing you softly, sliding his arms around your waist to hold you close. For a few moments you remained wrapped in each other, unwilling to part.

“And this isn’t the worst Christmas ever,” you informed him. “Not now I know Benny is gonna be fine.”

Dean nodded, smiling as he kissed you again. “Knew he would be,” he insisted, rubbing his nose against yours. “He’s your brother. Means he’s stubborn as fuck.”


	13. Chapter 13

The sky was darkening outside the room and you were busy making sure you had the right orders for pizza before Dean took you to go and collect them. Benny sat in the bed in the middle of the room, complaining that no one was listening to him as your dad argued with your mom about redoing Christmas at a later date.

“You know, I didn’t ask y’all to come sit here with me over New Year,” Benny muttered, throwing his hands up in the air. “You don’t have to stay here. I’ll just be watching the Rockin’ New Year.”

“And we’re staying with you,” your mom insisted. “Besides, Kathy isn’t throwing the yearly ball. And we didn’t plan anything else.”

You patted Benny’s foot gently. “What she’s saying is that the only other thing she’s gonna do is sit at home and feel guilty.” He gave you a dirty look as your mom attempted to silence you but you were too busy laughing. “I’m gonna go pick up dinner. Any last minute requests?”

Benny grumbled something spiteful under his breath and your mom glared at him until he feel quiet and you smiled brightly.

“Okay, then. We’ll be back in a jiff.” Dean reached out, taking your hand and leading you from the hospital. Outside was chilly, your breath easily visible in the December air. “Damn, it’s cold.”

Inside the Impala wasn’t much warmer and Dean immediately put the heaters on full, blasting you with warm, stale-smelling air. The drive to the pizza place wasn’t far and you called in the order on the way. By the time you returned to the hospital, Benny was watching Toy Story with Meg, who’d arrived while you were gone.

Your parents had gone to get coffee and quickly came back, bringing with them a small fold-up table the nurses had given them for the room.

“That’s good pizza,” Benny muttered, mouth full of pepperoni and cheese. “I hoped you tipped ‘em.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” your mom scolded, nibbling at her pizza like a hamster. Benny chomped down on another bite, staring at her defiantly.

When the food was eaten and all of you had a plastic cup of pop in your hands, you arranged yourselves to watch the crap on television. As expected, your dad was asleep before it was ten, your mom riveted to the small television screen for the climax of Die Hard. Dean was mouthing the words as he rhythmically stroked your arm, his heartbeat audible under your ear.

Meg was on her phone, occasionally showing Benny something funny.

“Did you text Sammy?” you asked suddenly, lifting your head to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Yeah. He’s having a good time over at the Robinsons’ child-friendly New Year. And Dad needed the break.” There was something in his eyes that made you frown but Dean forced a smile onto his face. “It’s nearly midnight,” he murmured, brushing his lips along the outer shell of your ear. You shuddered, sitting up.

Benny changed the channel and your dad woke with a start, pretending he’d never fallen asleep. “Mom,” you whispered. “Are you crying at Die Hard?”

“She always cries at Die Hard,” Benny scoffed, shaking his head.

“It’s her crush on Alan Rickman,” your dad grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. “You should see the state of her when she watches Harry Potter.” He yelped when his wife slapped his chest hard, scowling at him.

“Have a little respect. God rest his soul,” she muttered, looking up and clutching her hands to her chest. Dean chuckled, kissing your shoulder.

“I need alcohol,” you groaned, leaning into him and he shook his head.

“No, you don’t,” Dean said quietly, pulling you into his lap so you could feel the outline of his cock through his pants. Shame immediately heated your cheeks. “But I know what you do need.”

“Would you two save it for midnight?” Meg drawled as Benny made gagging noises. “You can share your sweet little kiss then.” There was a tone to her voice that made you feel a little guilty - things with Michael were over and she’d had to put up with you and Dean being cuddled up together all day.

Benny fixed his eyes on Meg, smirking in a way that you thought might have been flirting. She raised her gaze up to him, clearly confused by his expression. “You know,” Benny murmured, shuffling across the bed, “I don’t have anyone to kiss at midnight. And you don’t have anyone to kiss -”

“I’ll kiss you with my fist if you finish that sentence,” Meg warned and Benny instantly deflated, folding his arms over his chest and sulking as Meg went back to her phone.

You smiled, leaning into Dean and kissing him softly. “My place or yours?” you asked quietly and Dean chuckled.

“My place,” he replied, “got a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” You looked at him expectantly, feeling the warmth of his hand on your thigh. “What is it?” Lowering your voice, you attempted a guess. “Is it a sexy surprise?”

Dean’s smile grew, confirming your suspicions. “Later,” he promised. “The countdown is starting.”

*****

You were late again. It was the third time this week and you knew exactly the reasons for it. Dean Winchester and his inexplicable ability to keep you in bed and distracted by his tongue. Even now, he would still be making you cum when he knew you had to be at the lecture hall early.

“Goddamn him,” you growled, tripping over your own feet and landing on the concrete steps with a pained cry. In an instant, Gadreel was there, helping you up. “Oh! Thanks…” you looked up, catching his face, “Gadreel.”

“Y/N,” he greeted pleasantly. There was a petite brunette stood next to him, dressed conservatively and smiling awkwardly. “Are you okay?”

You dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand. “I’m fine,” you gushed. “Just a klutz, really. Hi.” Holding out a hand to the girl, you smiled at her and Gadreel seemed to remember she was there.

“Ah, Y/N, this is Hannah, Hannah, this is Y/N.”

Hannah’s perfectly shaped eyebrows arched in curiosity. “Your ex-girlfriend?”

A frown crossed your face. “We only went on one date, Gadreel. I don’t think that qualifies.”  _ Plus you were a total douche, _ you added mentally. “Anyways, I’m super later, so I’ll catch you later. Bye!” Dodging the relationship drama with all the skill of a tie-fighter lazily listing to the left, you bolted off.

You’d completely missed your lecture. “Damn it, Dean!”

“What did I do now?” he called from the side of the hall and you jumped out of your skin, spinning to glare at him. He was grinning like an idiot, leaning against the wall. “Knew you were gonna miss it. Shoulda just stayed in bed with me.” Dean crossed the hall, sliding his arms around your waist. 

“I wouldn’t have missed it if you weren’t distracting me with your tongue,” you murmured back, surrendering to his kisses. “You know you’re not supposed be on campus, right?”

“This was the only lecture you had today and I was too impatient to wait for you to walk all the way back. If you’d stayed in bed, I’d be much happier right now.” He kissed you again, pressing you up against the wall. Other students were starting to look now and you shoved him off, giggling.

“What about my car?”

Dean shrugged. “We’ll pick it up another day. C’mon. It’s Valentine’s Day. We should be doing nothing but watching shitty films and licking strawberry syrup off each other’s naked bodies.” You shivered and slapped him and he laughed at your embarrassed reaction.

Another girl walked past, appraising Dean and then looking at you, smirking. “Lucky,” she commented, tossing her hair over her shoulder and your shame tripled.

“She knows,” Dean said, pointing in the girl’s direction, earning himself another slap. “You gotta stop beating me up like this!” he wailed and you growled in frustration, storming off to the sound of his laughter. The Impala was parked by a “No Parking” sign on the street that ran through the college and you rolled your eyes at his little rebellious action.

You had almost reached the Impala when Dean’s phone rang, his obnoxiously loud rock ringtone making everyone within thirty feet look in his direction. He was still smiling as he dragged the phone out of his pocket, answering quickly. “Hey, Dad.”

Leaning back against the car, you waited for him as he listened to his father, his pace slowing and his expression morphing into worry. He hung up the phone, staring at it for a second. “What’s wrong?” you asked, concerned at his change in demeanor.

“I gotta go home. Dad’s… my dad is pissed and won’t tell me why.”

“You want me to come with?” Dean hesitated and you raised your hands, placing them on his chest. “It’s okay if you don’t, I’ll just -”

“No,” he stopped you, cupping your face. “Please... stay with me.”


	14. Chapter 14

John Winchester was a very large man. His sons had inherited the height from him, clearly, and the dark look in his eyes was one you’d seen in Dean’s before. Something had really pissed him off. As Dean parked the Impala at the bottom of the driveway, John waited on the porch, arms folded across his chest.

“Dad? What’s going on?” Dean asked, approaching his dad cautiously. You hung back, genuinely afraid of the man. “Where’s Sam?”

“In his room studying,” John grunted back. “There’s someone in the kitchen waiting for you. And I wanna hear your side of everything.”

“My side of what?” Dean pushed but his dad turned and walked into the house. Casting a worried glance at you, Dean followed him and you entered last, closing the door. “What the fuck?” Dean exclaimed and you rushed to see who was in the kitchen.

A tall thin man with greying hair and a stern expression stood at the table behind a chair where Lisa Braeden sat, nervously fiddling with her hair. Her swollen belly poked out from underneath her baby pink t-shirt and judging by the size of her, she was at least five months pregnant.

Dean’s jaw was on the floor and you felt sick. John glared at his son. “You dated this girl?”

“Yessir,” Dean admitted cheeks red. “But this isn’t possible.” His eyes met yours and you could see he wasn’t lying to you, holding his position steady and his gaze unwavering. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“So the baby couldn’t be yours?” John asked, sighing a little in relief. The tall man, who you presumed to be Lisa’s father, scowled.

“Are you calling my daughter a liar?” he snapped, his hand tightening on Lisa’s shoulder and she burst into tears like a perfectly timed actress.

John turned cold eyes on the man. “Sir, you don’t know me,” he started, “but my boys don’t lie to me. I didn’t raise ‘em that way.”

“You’re suggesting I raised my daughter to lie? Look at her!” he demanded, raising his voice and you could see John tense. He was ex-military, a damn scary guy if anyone asked you, and you certainly wouldn’t shout at him like that. “Your son knocked her up!”

“That’s a lie!” Dean snapped. “I never touched her!” His hand shook and you realized that he was lying when he said he hadn’t touched her. Jealousy and anger boiled in your belly, even when you tried to rationalize the situation. “Dad, there is no way that baby could possibly be mine.”

John nodded, believing him and you stared, wanting to believe him but unsure. “My boy says it ain’t his, then it ain’t his.”

Mr. Braeden sniffed unhappily. “Well, then, Mr Winchester. We’ll be seeing you in court.”

“Why?” you asked, suddenly and Mr Braeden looked at you like someone would look at shit on their shoe.

“My daughter is 17,” he replied.

“And if you’re saying this happened…” you started, prompting Lisa for an answer.

“Five months ago,” she rasped, not meeting your eyes, an exceedingly guilty expression on her face. 

“Then that’s October. Dean was 18, she was 17. Age of consent is 16, Mr. Braeden.”

“He raped my daughter -” the man started and John looked ready to swing a fist.

You scoffed. “Mr. Braeden, I know your daughter. I know the kind of people she hangs around with. And Dean is  _ not _ a rapist. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Dean stiffened at your side and John’s gaze slid to you. “I’ve known Dean since he was a kid and he’s never been anything but kind and loyal and loving. I’ve got no doubt if that was his baby in there, he’d be a fantastic father. But it’s not. I know it’s not because he said it’s not.”

Lisa looked up at her father, who was staring at her now, his eyes a little doubtful. “Daddy?” she whimpered.

“Pumpkin….” he started, shoulders sagging. “Is that young man the father of your baby?” Lisa’s sobbing continued and she slowly shook her head, ugly crying her way into a hug with her father. You snorted in disgust as Mr. Braeden soothed her and then stood up, guiding her out of the chair. “I’m very sorry to have disturbed you, gentlemen.” He bowed his head at you. “My apologies.”

John glared at him, not even bothering to see them out as Mr. Braeden accompanied his sobbing daughter to his car.

“Are they gone?” a quiet voice called out and Sam appeared in the doorway.

“They’re gone,” his father answered, heading over to the refrigerator and pulling out three beers. “Here.” He handed one to you and one to Dean before shaking his head at Sam. “Next year, champ. Root beer for now.” Sam’s face settled into a sulk but he grabbed a root beer anyway. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, son,” John muttered.

“How’d you know I wasn’t lying?” Dean asked, genuinely curious.

John chuckled. “Boy, you haven’t been able to lie to me since that camping trip in Aurora.” He sat back in his chair laughing to himself. “Bobby still cracks that story out every year.”

Dean was bright red and Sam looked confused. “Long story,” Dean rushed out, swigging his beer. “No time for it now.” You made a face at him and he scowled back. “I can’t believe she tried that…”

“Well, it’s done now. Whoever did it, it’s their problem,” John growled. “I thought I was gonna have to bury some bodies when he starting accusing you o’-” He stopped, remembering Sam was in the room. “The whole time they were here, I was pacing,  _ knowing _ I taught you better than to be so stupid.”

You avoided John’s eyes, knowing you’d been reckless in the past. “And you,” Dean whispered, catching your attention. “You really trust me like that?” You gave him a slow nod, finding his hand under the table and squeezing it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, shelving that conversation for another time. You still had questions about what had happened with Lisa and what he felt so damn guilty about. The baby wasn’t his. You were certain he hadn’t slept with her.

“Sam’s got a - what did you call it?” John asked, pointing at Sam.

“Mathletics,” the youngest Winchester replied.

“A Mathletics competition on Friday night. You think you two could make it?” John’s expression was hopeful and you smiled, nodding.

“I don’t have anything planned,” you said, tugging on Dean’s hand.

“Sure,” he said, sitting up straight. “Wouldn’t miss it.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Have I pissed you off?” Dean murmured, laying on his side in bed. It had been a late night and you’d fallen into bed without so much as a word to him.

You didn’t know how to answer his question, sighing heavily before rolling over. “No. You haven’t pissed me off. But… I have questions I need to ask you. Ones that  _ might _ make me sound like a neurotic bitch but they’re questions I have to ask to shut my own head up.”

Dean nodded, remaining silent and you took a breath.

“Did you have sex with Lisa?” you asked.

“No,” he replied honestly.

“Nothing at all?” you pushed and Dean looked away, nodding slowly. Your heart thundered in your chest and you reminded yourself again that you’d had sex with other people in the past, you and Dean hadn’t been a thing when either of you had had other encounters.

If you repeated it enough, it might quell the jealousy in your belly.

“What?”

“I was drinking a lot,” Dean murmured, closing his eyes. “And sometimes, I’d black out. It happened, twice, maybe three times. I’d wake up and Lisa would be -” He swallowed, looking anywhere but at you. “She’d be naked and sucking my cock. The first time… I was so shocked and I’d been drinking whiskey -”

You got the picture, nodding and pressing a finger to his lips. “I know. Whiskey harms your stamina.” You paused with a horrible thought that you decided to air. “Bet that was a surprise for her.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah…” He met your eyes now, feeling a little better about telling you the truth. “She got pissed at me and left. The next time wasn’t until a couple of months later and she was there again. I drank myself unconscious and when I woke up, she was trying to get me hard.”

“Jagerbombs?” you asked and Dean chuckled.

“It wasn’t happening. She’s straddling me, trying to get me to do anything… I left, avoided her for about six days until she started showing up at the shop, bringing me lunches, asking me to fuck her in the alleyway.” He shuddered. “I was hungover a lot. Mostly, I just wanted her to go away. I stopped turning up at work if I saw her anywhere near.”

You frowned. “But she came with you to Thanksgiving. You said she was your girlfriend.”

“I was also drunk and jealous,” he admitted, cheeks growing redder with every confession. “She followed me because I changed my phone number.”

“So she’s crazy?” you concluded.

“Yeah. And when I took out a restraining order on her, she tried to set fire to the shop. God knows what she told her parents.” Dean sighed, leaning into you, seeking a kiss from your lips. You responded, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over his stubble. “Am I forgiven?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you whispered, kissing him again. “But you can do something very right for me.” Your hand slid down his front, underneath his boxers, cupping his slowly-hardening cock. “You wanna do something right for me, baby?”

Dean groaned, cock filling and thickening in your hand. “Oh, I wanna do something alright.” He rolled, pinning you underneath his body and kissing you as you giggled, throwing your arms around his shoulders. A playful snarl left him and he kissed his way down your throat, dragging his fingertips over the peaks of your breasts. “Wanna make you scream,” he purred.

His cock was fully-erect now, thick and leaking against your thigh and you arched into him, silently begging for him to fuck you.

With one stroke, Dean was buried inside you to the hilt and you cried out, clutching at his shoulders. He gave you a second to adjust, then started to move, rolling his hips hard enough to make you cry out with every thrust. “So wet for me,” he growled, burying his mouth against your neck, gripping your ass with both hands.

You came easily, riding out the crest of your climax as Dean spilled into you, grunting against your throat. A strangled moan left your throat as you uncoupled from him, gasping for breath. “That was…”

“Short-lived,” he groaned, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m tired. I promise, you’ll get at least twenty minutes out of me in the morning.”

“It’s okay,” you yawned, snuggling up to him as he rolled onto his side, becoming the big spoon to his little one. Dean didn’t fight it, enjoying the feel of you behind him. “It’s the quality not the quantity that’s important.”

“Isn’t that something girls say to guys who can’t perform?” Dean muttered with his eyes shut and you smiled against his shoulder.

“No, it’s something I say to the guy who can make me cum in thirty seconds using his tongue, cock  _ or _ fingers.”

Dean grinned, pressing his ass back into your thighs. “Damn straight,” he mumbled.

“Get some sleep,” you ordered, yawning against his neck. “More sex tomorrow.”

*****

Your mom placed a freshly baked pie on the table and you stared at it, leaning heavily on one hand. “Did you hear? That Braeden girl had her baby. Turns out that their forty-year-old gardener was the father.” You raised your eyebrows at that, smirking when Dean entered the kitchen, drawn by the smell of pie.

“Color me surprised,” you said, sitting up straight as Dean took the seat next to you, sitting there patiently. “Something get your attention?” you asked him and he frowned, pointing at the pie. “Naturally.”

“It’s apple,” your mom informed your boyfriend, who licked his lips. “Big slice or little.”

“You met me, right?” Dean scoffed. “Your apple pie is amazing. Big slice. Extra big.” He leaned in. “Could I not just take the whole pie?”

You giggled as your dad walked in, frowning as he saw his wife cutting into the pie. “Hey, I didn’t say I would share.”

“You’re not eating a whole pie,” your mom scolded. “Either of you.” She cut off a generous piece, placing it on a plate and sliding it to Dean. Surprisingly, he grabbed a fork and managed to eat like a civilized human being. Your dad scowled at the significantly smaller piece he’d received, pouting at your mom who pointed the cake slicer at him threateningly. “Cholesterol.”

He grumbled, snatching a fork and skulking off to the living room to finish watching his documentaries. Dean had almost finished his piece and you raised a hand to stop your mom cutting you a slice. “No, thanks, mom,” you whispered. “I’m still full from dinner.”

“You’re not ill are you?” she asked in concern, automatically reaching to test your temperature and you dodged her.

“No,” you reassured her and Dean lifted his head, cheeks a little puffy as he chewed. “He can have my piece.” His face lit up and your mom frowned. “Seriously, mom, I’m fine. Just full. You overfeed.”

“Don’t see me complaining,” Dean muttered, a mouthful of apple filling. You rolled your eyes and stood up, leaving the room and Dean’s pie-worship. Your dad was in the living room with Benny, who was snoring on the armchair, his phone abandoned on his lap.

“Hey, dad,” you greeted, flopping down next to him. He was taking tiny bites of his pie, trying to make it last longer. “How’s the train thing?” 

“Good,” he replied, smiling. “I got some fantastic new grass for the new scenery I’m making. You should come down and check it out. It’s not far from your campus.”

“I will,” you promised, happy he still had his hobbies. Tucking your legs underneath your body, you stared at the television, watching Sir David Attenborough explain the behind-the-scenes of Planet Earth. Within a few moments, you were asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

Movement jarred you awake and you opened your eyes, seeing the underside of Dean’s chin. He noticed you rousing and smiled. “I’m taking you to the car, baby. Go back to sleep. Gonna take you home.”

“Back to your cupboard?” you murmured, snuggling into you.

Dean laughed under his breath. “No. Back to the dorms.”

You frowned, pressing your nose into his neck. “Don’t wanna go back to the dorms. I like the cupboard. The cupboard has a you.”

“Sweetheart, there’s no point paying for a dorm room when you’re not using it. And I don’t technically live at the apartment.”

“Why don’t we?” you asked, suddenly wide awake and Dean dropped your legs as you approached the car, supporting your unsteady gait so you could gain your bearings without face-planting the sidewalk. 

“Y/N, you couldn’t swing a cat in my apartment,” he commented, opening the passenger side door for you. The conversation halted as he walked around the front of the car, climbing in the driver’s side and pulling his seatbelt on. The Impala rumbled as she pulled away from the kerb. “There’s nowhere near enough room for our stuff.”

You pouted, looking at him. “Don’t you wanna live with me?”

Dean sighed, smiling fondly. “Of course I do. But that apartment… it’s too small, baby, you know that.”

Relenting you sank back, folding your arms across your chest as Dean drove the backway through town towards the campus. “Then why don’t we look for another place?” you suggested and he glanced at you in surprise. “Like, somewhere halfway between campus and the shop.”

He didn’t answer and your heart sank, wondering if he really didn’t want to live with you.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve only be dating since Christmas. Six months isn’t long enough. I’m rushing it,” you started to babble, “and I’m acting like the crazy girlfriend.”

Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the deserted road, turning the engine off and looking over at you as you stared back fearfully. “Will you marry me?” he asked, deadly serious and you blinked.

“What?”

“Seriously. I’m proposing to you right now. Will you be my wife?” You weren’t sure what to do and Dean started laughing. “I’m not. I mean, I am. Because if you want to, I will propose, I’ll get down on one knee and do some big grand gesture that you’ll fucking hate because I’ll bring it up at every party until the end of time.” You burst into giggles, tears in your eyes. “Y/N, I love you. And I know you love me.”

“I do,” you whispered, nodding. “I really do, Dean.”

“Moving in together sound perfect, if I’m honest. No more splitting our time between two places or almost being caught with our pants down. Our own place.” His eyebrows wiggled. “Which means more naked you, something I’m not entirely unhappy about.”

You nodded again, letting him pull your hands toward him. “I’d say yes,” you whispered. “If you had… if you did propose -”

Dean smirked, kissing your knuckles. “Gonna tell me I’m too young for that?”

“You are,” you insisted, smiling. “But so am I.”

“So. We gonna move in together?” Dean asked, leaning in to kiss you and you responded eagerly. 

“Yes.” He groaned when your hand slid between his legs, cupping his cock through his pants. “Just think. We’ll get to christen every room.” Dean’s fingers covered yours. “You stoppin’ me?”

A low growl rumbled through his chest. “No,” he murmured, removing his hand. “Not at all.” You smiled, slipping your fingers under the buttons of his jeans, unpopping them one by one. Dean leaned back, stretching in his seat as you freed his cock from his pants, stroking it slowly. “Fuck,” he groaned, dragging out the vowels.

Bending down, you kitten-licked his swollen crown, tasting his salty essence on your tongue. Taking more of him in, you pushed him against the roof of your mouth with his tongue, prolonging your gag reflex as you took him deep, holding your breath for a few seconds before coming back up. Dean didn’t have time to recover from the instant deep-throat; you started bobbing enthusiastically on his dick, your hand wrapped around what would wouldn’t fit comfortable in your mouth.

Dean’s hand hit the roof of the car; the other splayed around your neck, not applying any pressure as his neck strained and he clenched his teeth together. You kept going, breathing through your nose, feeling your own panties grow moist. Swapping hands, you slid your right palm down over your belly and under the waistband of your jeans.

“Are you touching yourself?” Dean groaned, managing to open his eyes enough to see what you were doing. You moaned around his dick, making him choke on his own words as you stroked your index finger over your clit. “Oh fuck, yeah, sweetheart. So good.” He trailed off into little whimpers that sounded positively sinful.

Your fingers were soaked with your juices and you moved faster, chasing your own orgasm as you sucked him off. The ache in your cheeks was becoming uncomfortable but you didn’t want to stop - you could taste Dean’s climax on your tongue.

His fingers tightened on your neck, forcing you to your climax just as he managed to warn you that he was going to cum. You sank down on him, letting his cock just tease your gag reflex as Dean shot spurt after spurt of salty liquid down your throat. His hand held your head in place, although he tried not to thrust up

When he was done, he released you and you pulled yourself off of him with a huge gasp of breath, searching for the bottle of soda you’d left in the front seat earlier on. It was warm and flat but it washed down the taste of cum well enough.

Dean looked like he was struggling to breathe, clinging to the door and the steering wheel, soft cock hanging out of his jeans. His face was red and you couldn’t help smiling smugly.

“Fuck,” he gasped, finally managing to move and tuck his cock away. He didn’t bother buttoning up his pants, wincing when he even pulled the elastic of his boxers over his used dick. “That was…” He swallowed, shaking his head.

“I’ve been holding back on you,” you confessed. “And also practicing.”

He turned his head sharply to look at you. “With what?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you teased.

“Oh, marry me,” Dean groaned. “I could die a king after that blowjob.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you quipped, pulling your feet up onto the seat. Dean didn’t scold you, too dazed and full of endorphins to care that you had your shoes on the leather upholstery. “Are we going to go home?”

He smiled, giving you a look that was full of adoration. “Our apartment?”

You nodded, leaning over to kiss him softly. “Our apartment.”


	17. Chapter 17

_ Some Years Later _

“What are we doing here?” you frowned, holding the paper grocery bag in your lap as Dean pulled over to the side of the road, halfway between your childhood home and campus. He had a smug grin on his lips and he removed the bag from your lap, placing it on the floor between your feet.

“You remember five years ago. Pretty much today?” he asked and you nodded slowly. Dean stretched in his seat, still smiling. “I could never forget it. Best blowjob I ever had in my life.” He slid his gaze to you. “Not that the others haven’t been fucking spectacular,” he commented and your cheeks flushed with heat. “Anyway, I asked you a question that day and you never answered me.”

You blinked, staring at him and he turned, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching into the glovebox in front of you. He pulled out a small red box, facing you full on and holding it in the palm of his hand.

“I promise, it’s not another sobriety chip,” he chuckled, opening the box to reveal a simple silver band with a single diamond set into the metal. “You gonna give me an answer to that question?”

Your hands covered your mouth as you stared at the beautiful ring. “Dean…”

He looked so hopefully and every inch as in love with you as he had on that day. Bursting into happy tears, you nodded and Dean tore the ring from its cushiony bed.

“Of course I’ll marry you,” you whispered, watching him slide the ring onto your finger, staring at it for a split second before kissing him hard, almost launching yourself across the front seat. Dean yelped in shock before laughing, holding you against his firm chest to change the tone of the kiss. It became heated and you were panting when you pulled away. “I could give you another one of those blowjobs,” you suggested.

Dean smirked, shaking his head. “I think I should return the favor. I mean, all the times I’ve fucked you in this car and I’ve never once eaten you out on the backseat.” His hand grabbed the door handle and your heart thumped wildly in your chest. “Race ya?”

You moved, scrambling over the backseat as Dean got out of the car and flung open the back door, reaching in to grab at you as you giggled and tried (not very hard) to escape.

Dean’s hands slid up underneath your skirt, pulling your panties down. You don’t know what had possessed you to wear the long summer skirt today but you were grateful for the pre-emptive action. “Goddamn, you look sexy as fuck,” Dean murmured, kissing your inner thigh and dropping your panties to the floor of the car.

Flinging a hand out to grab the backseat, you shrieked when he literally dove in with no warning, thrusting his tongue into you, making you squirm up the seat. His hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer and you cried out in pleasure, writhing on his tongue.

He paused, head completely covered by your skirt so you couldn’t see what he was doing. When his tongue flicked over your clit, you bucked, half a second away from begging him to fuck you.

A police car trundled down the road and you sat up a little as you heard the engine, eyes wide in panic. “Dean,” you hissed but he was too involved in what he was doing. “Dean, there’s a freakin’ cop.”

He didn’t stop, determined to get you off, despite the risk of arrest. “Play along,” he growled, grabbed a discarded jacket from the floor and shoving it up your top.

The officer approached the car as you screamed again, calling out for Dean show himself, only his ass and legs sticking out of the car. “Sir? Sir, can I ask what you’re doing?”

Dean pulled away, plastering a worried expression onto his face and you lay on your back with your legs still spread, only your skirt hiding your modesty. Dean’s fingers brushed your ankle and you screamed out in false pain. “Sorry, officer,” Dean apologized, beginning to wring his hands. “My wife, she’s in labor and she thought she could feel the head.” He gestured to you and the cop peered into the car, frowning at the sight of you, panting and flushed, sweat rolling down your forehead, Dean’s jacket shoved up your top to give a mildly convincing appearance of a baby bump.

“Oh, is she okay?” he asked, buying that your dishevelled appearance was from childbirth and not the mind-blowing climax you’d just experienced on Dean’s tongue.

“She’s fine. No head,” Dean offered helpfully. “I’m just gonna get her to the hospital.”

The officer gestured to his car. “Would you like an escort?”

“No, no,” Dean dismissed, laughing nervously as you pulled your feet in so he could close the door. “Thank you so much, officer. I’d better get her there before she pops in the car.”

“Okay,” the officer nodded. “Hope everything goes well and...er, congratulations, I guess?”

Dean thanked him again and climbed in the driver’s seat, starting the car. When you were safely out of sight, you threw the jacket back on the floor and tumbled across the seats into the front, glaring at him. “I can’t believe you!” you gasped, still feeling the effects of the adrenaline both the sex and the encounter had caused.

He laughed. “I can’t believe we got away with it.” You smacked his shoulder but he carried on laughing. “Oh, man. That’s gonna be a good story to tell the grandkids.”

“NO,” you exclaimed but it only served to increase his mirth.

*****

_ Another couple of years later... _

Benny whistled as he walked in, hand in hand with Andrea, his new girlfriend. “I can’t believe this place is yours,” he murmured, taking in the high ceilings. You smiled, swinging your legs where you were perched on the breakfast bar. 

“Hard work pays off,” Dean said, lugging another box in through the front door. “Are you gonna help or gawk?”

The younger man turned with a grumble, abandoning Andrea and heading out to the truck. Another car pulled up and you recognized the old blue minivan, smiling as Meg and Charlie jumped out, running up the driveway and completely ignoring the boys moving boxing. Castiel trailed behind them, instantly grabbed by Benny to help.

“You bought a house!” Charlie squealed and you grinned. “We totally need the grand tour. Your wifi is really good out here!” She grabbed Meg’s arm, pointing to the ornate wooden staircase. “Oh my god, look at that!” Darting off, you laughed as Meg rolled her eyes.

It had been a shock to find your two best friends in bed with each other, even more so to find out that they’d been sharing the same bed for several months. Meg confessed she’d fallen in love with Charlie and you were genuinely happy for them, after the initial weirdness.

“We’re going to have a housewarming party,” you said, excitedly. “Once we’ve decorated and got all the furniture in.”

“Damn,” Meg whistled. “You did good, snatching him up while he was young,” she quipped and you jumped down from the counter, slapping her shoulder. “What? Man’s got a thriving business, in this economy, a decent-sized dick and you’re always grinning so I’m assuming he’s good with it.”

Andrea blushed. She hadn’t met Meg before. “I don’t think everyone needs to know the specifics,” you mumbled, taking Meg’s elbow and smiling at Andrea. “How about I show you the yard? It’s going to make your inner-four-year-old so happy.”

“Nothing inner about it,” Meg grumbled but she followed dutifully.

Hours later, when everyone had come to see the house and the boxes were all piled in their allocated rooms, you and Dean were sharing a beer from the old green cooler that he kept in the Impala. The only thing you had unpacked was the fold out recliners in the yard where you’d decided to spend the warm summer night underneath the stars.

“I like this,” Dean murmured, brushing his fingers through your hair. Originally, you’d dragged two of the chairs out but both of you were curled onto one, enjoying the closeness. “Nice quiet suburbs. Great place to raise kids.”

You smiled. “Back on that, are we?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Can’t help it. Wanna make you all fat with babies.”

A groan left you. “Stop talking like that,” you whispered. “You know it makes me all…”

“Wet?” he offered, smirking and you slapped his chest playfully. “C’mon. Your job is going great, the business is  fine. This is the best time. You’ll get maternity pay and I won’t need to take time off being the boss an’ all. Dad won’t mind.”

Dean had taken over the family business just after the wedding. His dad still worked there but after a cancer scare, he wanted to make sure Dean didn’t have any problems if the worst happened. Sam was away at Stanford, studying to be an environmental lawyer.

“Good thing I forgot to put my birth control in my bag when we packed,” you sighed, looking up at the sky and rolling your shoulders casually. “No clue if we’ll ever find it.”

A short growl was your only warning and you shrieked as Dean rolled you underneath him, ignoring the threatening creak of the overtaxed lounger. He groaned when you responded by kissing him, tugging on the short hair at the back of his head.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby in you,” he snarled, nipping a trail along your jaw and down your throat.

You grunted in a very unladylike manner when he tugged at your blouse, planting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him off. Dean yelped in protest, falling on his ass. Getting to your feet, you looked down at him. “I am not having sex in the yard,” you informed him, unbuttoning your shirt.

Dean licked his lips, on all fours like an animal and you shivered, tossing the top onto the lawn. Backing away slowly, you unhooked your bra, dropping it to the floor with a sly grin.

“You want it, boy?” you whispered, bending down a little and Dean growled like a literal dog. Which shouldn’t have been as sexy as it was. His eyes flashed in the moonlight and you straightened, unbuttoning your pants. Sliding them down your legs, you stepped backward out of them, so you were stood inside the house with only your panties on.

“Come and get it,” you teased.

Dean moved  _ fast _ , his significantly longer legs carrying him over the threshold in seconds and you screamed, running away toward the stairs. You barely made it to the landing when Dean was on you, kissing along your shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your waist, carrying you towards the bedroom.

“Dean -” you gasped. “There isn’t a bed.”

He stopped in the doorway, pausing as he thought of a solution to that. “Wait here,” he muttered, darting into the bedroom ahead of you. Ignoring his order, you followed, watching him pull the bare mattress away from the wall, throwing it to the floor with a loud thud. Dean stripped his clothes and threw himself onto the makeshift bed, cock hard and jutting up into the air. “Ta-da.”

“Right where I want you,” you commented, strutting over and pushing your panties down as you went. Dean didn’t move, staring up in awe as you stood over him, your feet either side of his thighs. “You think you’re gonna fuck a baby in me, huh?”

Dean swallowed, nodding silently. You smirked.

“Maybe I’m gonna fuck a baby  _ out _ of you,” you finished. Dean burst into laughter and you pouted. “Too much?”

“You’re getting better,” he admitted, still chortling under his breath. You narrowed your eyes, lowering yourself so your soaked folds were pressed against the length of his cock and Dean made a funny noise that wasn’t laughter anymore. “Fuck, you’re so warm.”

Rolling your hips, you elicited a low moan from his throat and his hands landed on your hips. “Wanna be inside me, Dean?” He nodded, straining his neck up. “Words.”

“Yes,” he hissed, the sound just about audible and his chin dropped to his chest so he could look at you. “Yeah, I wanna be inside you.”

“Hmmm.” You lifted a few inches, wrapping your fingers around his cock and lining him up with your soaked entrance. “Do you really?” A little squeeze, allowing the tip of his cock to slide into your body, was all it took to break him.

“Please,” he snarled, his fingertips pressing into your thighs. “Please, fuck me. Wanna feel that tight cunt around my cock, wanna cum inside you, baby, please.”

Satisfied, you lowering yourself onto him, slowly, biting back your own cries as Dean’s sounds of pleasure echoed off of the bare walls. When he was fully sheathed inside you, you stopped, relaxing your weight.

Dean was already panting heavily, his legs shaking. “I love you,” you whispered, leaning over to cup his face with your fingertips. “You know that, right?”

He smiled, nodding and lifting his head to kiss you. “I know. Wouldn’t have married you otherwise.” Your own smile blossomed across your lips, remembering the previous summer when you’d taken his name. And the three weeks afterward that you’d spent in Europe, barely leaving the hotel rooms in the haze of honeymoon happiness. “You gonna fuck me or not, wife?” Dean murmured, jostling you from your memories.

Sitting upright, you planted your hands either side of his head, gyrating your hips and allowing his cock to escape the warmth of your pussy by a couple of inches before slamming back down. Dean grunted and grabbed at the sheets.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you promised, repeating the action, “husband.”


	18. Chapter 18

“I don’t know, Meg,” you sighed, sitting at the kitchen counter with the grocery list in front of you, reluctantly scribbling the word “tampons” at the bottom. “All I know is that it’s been a year and we’re both healthy and…”

“ _ You’re panicking too much, _ ” Meg dismissed. “ _ It can take like… two years for that shit to happen. You’re overthinking it and stressing yourself out, you could be preventing it happening.” _

You frowned, looking up as the familiar sound of the Impala rumbled up the driveway. “Dean’s home. Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Barely catching Meg’s goodbye, you stood up, forcing a brave expression onto your face. The front door opened and Dean entered, face and upper body concealed with a box that was…

Moving?

“Hey,” you greeted, frowning at him.

“Hey,” Dean replied, kicking the front door shut and stumbling into the living room to place the box gently on the floor. “So, er, I did something.”

Folding your arms across your chest, you raised an eyebrow and waited, the box jiggling across the floor making little yipping noises.

Dean scratched the back of his head. “I know you’ve been down lately. And I know it’s because of the baby thing.” You opened your mouth to argue, knowing he would be taking it just as hard as you but he raised a finger to stop you. “We wanted a baby. So I propose a stand-off for now, and also good practice -” He bent down, opening the lid of the box and a beautiful little chocolate labrador puppy burst out, wagging its little tail with such excitement that its whole butt was shaking.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, bending down to scoop the puppy from the floor, laughing when it licked your face.

“I present to you, Bonham,” Dean announced, hopeful at your reaction.

“She’s gorgeous!” you praised, holding the puppy up, inadvertently finding out if it was a boy or girl dog. “She’s a girl! Oh, she’s a beautiful baby girl!”

“I did good?” Dean squeaked and you nodded, laughing through your burgeoning happy tears. His shoulder sagged in relief and he pulled you close, accepting Bonham’s doggy kisses. “We’re gonna get there, baby,” he promised as you cooed at the puppy. “Maybe it’ll take a while but I know we’re gonna get there.”

The phone rang and he pulled away with a quick peck, answering it. You watched, ignoring Bonham licking your ear, as Dean’s face fell and he went pale. He ended the call, staring at the phone. “Dean? What is it?”

“It’s Dad,” he murmured, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “He’s in the hospital.”

*****

You felt sick to your stomach, sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean was exhausted and today was the day whether they found out if John’s surgery has been successful. The aggressive cancer he’d been battled for sixteen months was taking its toll on everyone but Dean seemed to bear the worst of it.

The outcome of today would change the secret you kept, the one you hadn’t been able to face for two weeks. No one knew, not even your mom, for fear that the news would not be received as the happy occasion it should be.

Dean was biting his nails again. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and you knew this was one of the hardest things he’d ever been through. Losing his mom at a young age had always made his burden heavier to bear but his relationship with John had improved so much in the last ten years that he was genuinely happy.

Now he was watching his father lose his strength and vitality and possibly… his life.

The hospital was quiet and you clung to Dean’s arm, offering as much as support to him as you could. He didn’t speak but he leaned his head on top of yours, accepting your comfort gratefully. Sam was already waiting in John’s room, chatting to his dad about his new internship.

“Hey, Dean,” John greeted, waving a little. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Has the doctor been in yet?” Dean asked, leaving your side and moving to the chair next to Sam’s. John shook his head, smiling.

“No. Not yet. I think they were waiting for you.” He sighed, reaching out to take his eldest son’s hand. “Dean, you don’t gotta be here for this. You and Y/N had plans today -”

“He wouldn’t rest not knowing,” you interrupted, standing behind Dean and touching his shoulder lightly. “To be honest, I don’t think I could have concentrated either. But we can go another time.” You squeezed Dean’s shoulder and he nodded, not taking his eyes off of his dad.

There was a knock at the door of the private room and two doctors stood shoulder to shoulder, smiling softly. Dean’s entire body went tense and he didn’t speak, watching his father and the medics exchange pleasantries.

“We’ve had the results back from your scans and most recent bloodwork,” the senior doctor started, smiling in a positive manner that gave you hope for the news. “Now, there’s a few abnormalities in your white count that we want to monitor for a few days, which is perfectly usual after the surgery you had. Otherwise, I’m pleased to tell you that we removed ninety-eight percent of the tumors and there is less than 5% chance they will grow back after your last round of chemo.”

For a second there was silence and tears filled your eyes. John gasped, smiling widely. “Are you tellin’ me I don’t have cancer anymore?” he asked quietly.

The younger doctor nodded with a grin, obviously happy to deliver good news. “Well, you still have a small remainder of the cancerous cells in your liver but with treatment, they will not pose any further threat to you.”

“That’s fantastic!” Sam exclaimed, leaning over to hug his dad who was laughing. Dean remained silent but he was smiling and he reached up to touch your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. You bent down, kissing the side of his face.

“I told you,” you whispered, “Winchesters are stubborn.”

He laughed, nodding as his father thanked the doctors, who wished him well and informed him that they would return later. The excitement in the room was palpable and Dean cleared his throat, getting to his feet. “You’ve been keeping something from me,” he murmured and you went rigid, staring at him. “I have exactly one job you trust me with in the house. Taking out the trash.” John looked up, hearing Dean’s steady words, frowning.

“Everything okay?” he asked. “I mean, this is a happy occasion, right?”

Dean smiled, turning to his dad. “It is,” he confirmed, side-eying you. “I’m just asking Y/N if she would care to share what she’s been keeping secret from me.”

Sam and John’s attention was on you and you shifted uncomfortably. Dean was still smiling, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I empty the trash on Tuesday night,” he reminded you. “The study, the kitchen, the garage and…”

“The bathroom,” you finished in a whisper, remembering where you’d hidden the positive pregnancy test. “But I put it at the bottom.”

Dean chuckled as Sam raised an hand in confusion. “I don’t get it. So Dean takes out the trash. Has he learned to put the toilet seat down yet?”

“Hey, you’re the one who pees sitting down like a girl,” Dean hissed and you slapped at his arm, dragging his attention back to you. “I didn’t take the bag out. You’re always on about reusing plastic so if there’s nothing gross in there, I just tip it out. It was on top as I was tying the bag.”

“So you knew -”

“All along” he confirmed, smiling and taking hold of your hands. “Why didn’t you say something?”

You sobbed out a laugh, shrugging. “I didn’t think it was appropriate.”

“Okay, I’m lost, what the hell is goin’ on?” John asked, growing frustrated with the lack of answers. Wiping at your eyes, you turned with Dean to face his family.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Dean’s fingers tightly and he squeezed back. “I’m pregnant.”


End file.
